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ADDISON  ALEXANDER  LIBRARY,      £ 
which  was  presented  by 
Messrs.  R.  L.  and  A.  Stuait. 


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THE 


MORAL   AND   POLITICAL 


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By  WILLIAM  PALEY,  D.  D, 


NINTH  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED  BIT   WEST  AND  RICHARDSON,   NO.   75,   CORNHILt 
J.  H.  A.  Frost,  Pricier, 

1818, 


TO  THE 


flight  Hey.  EDMUND  li&W,  D.  D. 


LORD  BISHOP  OF  CARLISLE. 


MY  LORD, 

HAD  the  obligations  which  1  owe  to  your  Lord- 
ship's kindness  been  much  less,  or  much  fewer,  than 
they  are ;  had  personal  gratitude  left  any  place  in  my 
mind  for  deliberation  or  for  inquiry ;  in  selecting  a 
name  which  every  reader  might  confess  to  be  prefixed 
with  propriety  to  a  work,  that,  in  many  of  its  parts, 
bears  no  obscure  relation  to  the  general  principles  of 
natural  and  revealed  religion,  I  should  have  found 
myself  directed  by  many  considerations  to  that  of  the 
Bishop  of  Carlisle.  A  long  life  spent  in  the  most  in- 
teresting of  all  human  pursuits,  the  investigation  of 
moral  and  religious  truth,  in  constant  and  unwearied 
endeavours  to  advance  the  discovery,  communication, 
and  success  of  both  ;  a  life  so  occupied,  and  arrived 
at  that  period  which  renders  every  life  venerable,  com- 


IV  DEDICATION. 

mauds  respect  by  a  title,  which  no  virtuous  mind  will 
dispute,  which  no  mind  sensible  of  the  importance  of 
these  studies  to  the  supreme  concernments  of  mankind 
will  not  rejoice  to  see  acknowledged.  Whatever  dif- 
ference, or  whatever  opposition,  some  who  peruse 
your  Lordship's  writings  may  perceive  between  your 
conclusions  and  their  own,  the  good  and  wise  of  all 
persuasions  will  revere  that  industry,  which  has  for  its 
object  the  illustration  or  defence  of  our  common  Chris- 
tianity. Your  Lordship's  researches  have  never  lost 
sight  of  one  purpose,  namely,  to  recover  the  simplicity 
of  the  gospel  from  beneath  that  load  of  unauthorised 
additions,  which  the  ignorance  of  some  ages,  and 
the  learning  of  others,  the  superstition  of  weak,  and 
the  craft  of  designing  men,  have  (unhappily  for  its  in- 
terest) heaped  upon  it.  And  this  purpose,  I  am  con- 
vinced, was  dictated  by  the  purest  motive ;  by  a  firm, 
and,  I  think,  a  just  opinion,  that  whatever  ren  1  rs  re- 
ligion more  rational,  renders  it  more  credible  :  that  he 
who,  by  a  diligent  and  faithful  examination  of  the 
original  records,  dismisses  from  the  system  one  article 
which  contradicts  the  apprehension,  the  experience,  or 
the  reasoning  of  mankind,  does  more  towards  recom- 
mending the  belief,  and,  with  the  belief,  the  influence 
of  Christianity,  to  the  understandings  and  consciences 
of  serious  inquirers,  and  through  them  to  universal 
reception  and  authority,  than  can  be  effected  by  a 
thousand  contenders  for  creeds  and  ordinances  of  hu- 
man establishment, 


DEDICATION.  V 

When  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiatiou  had  taken 
possession  of  the  Christian  world,  it  was  not  without 
the  industry  of  learned  men  that  it  came  at  length  to 
be  discovered,  that  no  such  doctrine  was  contained  in 
the  New  Testament.  But  had  those  excellent  persons 
done  nothing  more  by  their  discovery,  than  abolished 
an  innocent  superstition,  or  changed  some  directions 
in  the  ceremonial  of  public  worship,  they  had  merited 
little  of  that  veneration,  with  which  the  gratitude  of 
Protestant  churches  remembers  their  services.  What 
they  did  for  mankind  was  this  :  they  exonerated  Chris- 
tianity of  a  weight  which  sunk  it.  If  indolence  or 
timidity  had  checked  these  exertions,  or  suppressed 
the  fruit  and  publication  of  these  inquiries,  is  it  too 
much  to  affirm,  that  infidelity  would  at  this  day  have 
been  universal  ? 

I  do  not  mean,  my  Lord,  by  the  mention  of  this  ex- 
ample, to  insinuate,  that  any  popular  opiuion  which 
your  Lordship  may  have  encountered,  ought  to  be 
compared  with  transubstantialion,  or  that  the  assurance 
with  which  we  reject  that  extravagaut  absurdity  is  at- 
tainable in  the  controversies  in  which  your  Lordship 
has  been  engaged  :  but  I  mean,  by  calling  to  mind 
those  great  reformers  of  the  public  faith,  to  observe, 
or  rather  to  express  my  own  persuasion,  that  to  restore 
the  purity,  is  most  effectually  to  promote  the  progress 
of  Christianity  ;  and  that  the  same  virtuous  motive 
which  hath  sanctified  their  labours,  suggested  yours. 
At  a  time  when  some  men  appear  not  to  perceive  any 


Vi  DEDICATION. 

good,  and  others  to  suspect  an  evil  tendency,  in  that 
spirit  of  examination  and  research  which  is  gone  forth 
in  Christian  countries,  this  testimony  is  become  due, 
not  only  to  the  probity  of  your  Lordship's  views,  but 
to  the  general  cause  of  intellectual  and  religious  lib- 
erty. J 

That  your  Lordship's  life  may  be  prolonged  in 
health  and  honour,  that  it  may  continue  to  afford  an 
instructive  proof  how  serene  and  easy  old  age  can  be 
made  by  the  memory  of  important  and  well-intended 
labours,  by  the  possession  of  public  and  deserved 
esteem,  by  the  presence  of  many  grateful  relatives: 
above  all,  by  the  resources  of  religion,  by  an  unshaken 
confidence  in  the  designs  of  a  "  faithful  Creator,"  and 
a  settled  trust  in  the  truth  and  in  the  promises  of 
Christianity,  is  the  fervent  prayer  of, 

My  Lord, 
Your  Lordship's  dutiful, 
Most  obliged, 

And  most  devoted  Servant, 

WILLIAM  PALEY. 

Carlisle,  Feb.  10, 1783. 


PREFACE. 


IN  the  treatises  that  I  have  met  with  upon  the  subject  of  morals, 
I  appear  to  myself  to  have  remarked  the  following  imperfec- 
tions : — either  that  the  principle  was  erroneous,  or  that  it  was  in- 
distinctly explained,  or  that  the  rules  deduced  from  it  were  not 
sufficiently  adapted  to  real  life  and  to  actual  situations.  The 
writings  of  Grotius,  and  the  larger  work  of  Puffendorff,  are  of  too 
forensic  a  cast,  too  much  mixed  up  with  civil  law  and  with  the 
jurisprudence  of  Germany,  to  answer  precisely  the  design  of  a 
system  of  ethics, — the  direction  of  private  consciences  in  the  gen- 
eral conduct  of  human  life.  Perhaps,  indeed,  they  are  not  to  be 
regarded  as  institutes  of  morality,  calculated  to  instruct  an  indi- 
vidual in  his  duty,  so  much  as  a  species  of  law  books  and  law 
authorities,  suited  to  the  practice  of  those  courts  of  justice,  whose 
decisions  are  regulated  by  general  principles  of  natural  equity, 
in  conjunction  with  the  maxims  of  the  Roman  code :  of  which 
kind,  I  understand,  there  are  many  upon  the  Continent.  To 
which  may  be  added,  concerning  both  these  authors,  that  they 
are  more  occupied  in  describing  the  rights  and  usages  of  inde- 
pendent communities,  than  is  necessary  in  a  work  which  professes 
not  to  adjust  the  correspondence  of  nations,  but  to  delineate  the 
offices  of  domestic  life.  The  profusion  also  of  classical  quota- 
tions, with  which  many  of  their  pages  abound,  seems  to  me  a 
fault  from  which  it  will  not  be  easy  to  excuse  them.  If  these 
extracts  be  intended  as  decorations  of  style,  the  composition  is 
overloaded  with  ornaments  of  one  kind.  To  any  thing  more 
than  ornament  they  can  make  no  claim.  To  propose  them  as 
serious  arguments  ;  gravely  to  attempt  to  establish  or  fortify  a 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

moral  duty  by  the  testimony  of  a  Greek  or  Roman  poet,  is  to 
trifle  With  the  attention  of  the  reader,  or  rather  to  take  it  oft" 
from  all  just  principles  of  reasoning  in  morals. 

Of  our  own  writers  in  this  branch  of  philosophy,  I  find  hone 
that  I  think  perfectly  free  from  the  three  objections  which  I  have 
stated.  There  is  likewise  a  fourth  property  observable  almost 
in  all  of  them,  namely,  that  they  divide  too  much  of  the  law  of 
nature  from  the  precepts  of  revelation  ;  some  authors  industrious- 
ly declining  the  meution  of  scripture  authorities,  as  belonging  to 
a  different  province ;  and  others  reserving  them  for  a  separate 
volume :  which  appears  to  me  much  the  same  defect,  as  if  a  com- 
mentator on  the  laws  of  England  should  content  himself  with 
stating  upon  each  head  the  common  law  of  the  laud,  without  tak- 
ing any  notice  of  acts  of  parliament;  or  should  choose  to  give 
his  readers  the  common  law  in  one  book,  and  the  statute  law  in 
another.  "  When  the  obligations  of  morality  are  taught,''  says 
a  pious  and  celebrated  writer,  "  let  the  sanctions  of  Christianity 
never  be  forgotten :  by  which  it  will  be  shewn  that  they  give 
strength  and  lustre  to  each  other  :  religion  will  appear  to  be  the 
voice  of  reason,  and  morality  will  be  the  will  of  God.'** 

The  manner  also  in  which  modern  writers  have  treated  of  sub- 
jects of  morality,  is  in  my  judgment  liable  to  much  exception.  It 
has  become  of  late  a  fashion  to  deliver  moral  institutes  in  strings 
or  series  of  detached  propositions,  without  subjoining  a  continued 
argument  or  regular  dissertation  to  any  of  them.  This  senten- 
tious, apothegmatizing  style,  by  crowding  propositions  and  para- 
graphs too  fast  upon  the  mind,  and  by  carVying  the  eye  of  the 
reader  from  subject  to  subject  in  too  quick  a  succession,  gains  not 
a  sufficient  hold  upon  the  attention,  to  leave  either  the  memory 
furnished,  or  the  understanding  satisfied.  However  useful  a 
sylabus  of  topics  or  a  series  of  propositions  may  be  in  the  hands 
of  a  lecturer,  or  as  a  guide  to  a  student,  who  is  supposed  to  con- 
sult other  books,  or  to  institute  upon  each  subject  researches  of 
his  own,  the  method  is  by  no  means  convenient  for  ordinary  read- 
ers ;  because  few  readers  are  such  thinkers  as  to  want  only  a 
hint  to  set  their  thoughts  at  work  upon;  or  such  as  will  pause 
and  tarry  at  every  proposition,  till  they  have  traced  out  its  de- 
pendency, proof,  relation,  and  consequences,  before  they  permit 

*  Preface  to  "  The  Preceptor,'*  by  Dr,  Johnson. 


PREFACE.  IX 

themselves  to  step  on  to  another.  A  respectable  writer  of  this 
class*  has  comprised  his  doctrine  of  slavery  in  the  three  follow- 
ing propositions  : 

"  No  one  is  born  a  slave,  because  every  one  is  born  with  all  his 
original  rights." 

"  No  one  can  become  a  slave,  because  no  one  from  being  a 
person  can,  in  the  language  of  the  Roman  law,  become  a  thing, 
or  subject  of  property." 

"  The  supposed  property  of  the  master  in  the  slave,  therefore, 
is  matter  of  usurpation,  not  of  right." 

It  may  be  possible  to  deduce  from  these  few  adages  such  a 
theory  of  the  primitive  rights  of  human  nature,  as  will  evince  the 
illegality  of  slavery  ;  but  surely  an  author  requires  too  much  of 
his  reader,  when  he  expects  him  to  make  these  deductions  for 
himself:  or  to  supply,  perhaps  from  some  remote  chapter  of  the 
same  treatise,  the  several  proofs  and  explanations  which  are  ne- 
cessary to  render  the  meaning  and  truth  of  these  assertions 
intelligible. 

There  is  a  fault,  the  opposite  of  this,  which  some  moralists 
who  have  adopted  a  different,  and  I  think  a  better  plan  of  com- 
position, have  not  always  been  careful  to  avoid ;  namely,  the 
dwelling  upon  verbal  and  elementary  distinctions  with  a  labour 
and  prolixity  proportioned  much  more  to  the  subtlety  of  the 
question,  than  to  its  value  and  importance  in  the  prosecution 
of  the  subject.  A  writer  upon  the  law  of  nature,f  whose  ex- 
plications in  every  part  of  philosophy,  though  always  diffuse,  are 
often  very  successful,  has  employed  three  long  sections  in  en- 
deavouring to  prove  that  "  permissions  are  not  laws."  The  dis- 
cussion of  this  controversy,  however  essential  it  might  be  to  dia- 
lectic precision,  was  certainly  not  necessary  to  the  progress  of 
a  work  designed  to  describe  the  duties  and  obligations  of  civil 
life.  The  reader  becomes  impatient  when  he  is  detained  by  dis- 
quisitions which  have  no  other  object  than  the  settling  of  terms 
and  phrases  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  they  for  whose  use  such  books 
are  chiefly  intended,  will  not  be  persuaded  to  read  them  at  all. 

I  am  led  to  propose  these  strictures,  not  by  any  propensity  to 
depreciate  the  labours  of  my  predecessors,  much  less  to  invite  a 
comparison  between  the  merits  of  their  performances  and  my 

*  Dr.  Ferguson,  author  of  M  Institutes  of  Moral  Philosophy,"  1767. 
f  Dr.  Rutherfgrth,  author  of  « Institutes  of  Natural  La*v." 
•P. 


X  PREFACE. 

own  |  but  solely  by  the  consideration,  that  when  a  writer  offers  a 
book  to  the  public,  upon  a  subject  on  which  the  public  are  al- 
ready in  possession  of  many  others,  he  is  bound  by  a  kind  of  lit- 
erary  justice  to  inform  his  readers,  distinctly  and  specifically, 
what  it  is  he  professes  to  supply,  and  what  he  expects  to  improve. 
The  imperfections  above  enumerated  are  those  which  I  have 
endeavoured  to  avoid  or  remedy.  Of  the  execution  the  reader 
must  judge :  but  this  was  the  design. 

Concerning  the  principle  of  morals  it  would  be  premature  to 
speak ;  but  concerning  the  manner  of  unfolding  and  explaining 
that  principle,  I  have  somewhat  which  I  wish  to  be  remarked. 
An  experience  of  nine  years  in  the  office  of  a  public  tutor  in 
one  of  the  universities,  and  in  that  department  of  education  to 
which  these  chapters  relate,  afforded  me  frequent  occasions  to 
observe,  that,  in  discoursing  to  young  minds  upon  topics  of  mor- 
ality, it  required  much  more  pains  to  make  them  perceive  the 
difficulty,  than  to  understand  the  solution :  that  unless  the  sub- 
ject was  so  drawn  up  to  a  point,  as  to  exhibit  the  full  force  of  an 
objection,  or  the  exact  place  of  a  doubt,  before  any  explanation 
was  entered  upon, — -in  other  words,  unless  some  curiosity  was 
excited  before  it  was  attempted  to  be  satisfied,  the  labour  of  the 
teacher  was  lost.  When  information  was  not  desired,  it  was  sel- 
dom, I  found,  retained.  I  have  made  this  observation  my  guide 
in  the  following  work :  that  is,  upon  each  occasion,  I  have  en- 
deavoured, before  I  suffered  myself  to  proceed  in  the  disquisition, 
to  put  the  reader  in  complete  possession  of  the  question ;  and  to 
do  it  in  the  way  that  I  thought  most  likely  to  stir  up  his  own 
doubts  and  solicitude  about  it. 

In  pursuing  the  principle  of  morals  through  the  detail  of  cases 
to  which  it  is  applicable,  I  have  had  in  view  to  accommodate 
both  the  choice  of  the  subjects,  aud  the  manner  of  handling  them, 
to  the  situations  which  arise  in  the  life  of  an  inhabitant  of  this 
country,  in  these  times.  This  is  the  thing  that  I  thiuk  to  be 
principally  wanting  in  former  treatises ;  and  perhaps  the  chief 
advantage  which  will  be  found  in  mine.  I  have  examined  no 
doubts,  I  have  discussed  no  obscurities,  I  have  encountered  no  er- 
rors, I  have  adverted  to  no  controversies,  but  what  I  have  seen 
actually  to  exist.  If  some  of  the  questions  treated  of  appear  to 
a  more  instructed  reader  minute  or  peurile,  I  desire  such  reader 
to  be  assured  that  I  have  found  them  occasions  of  difficulty  to 


PREFACE.  XI 

young  minds ;  and  what  I  have  observed  in  young  minds,  I  should 
expect  to  meet  with  in  all  who  approach  these  subjects  for  the 
first  time.  Upon  each  article  of  human  duty,  I  have  combined 
with  the  conclusions  of  reason  the  declarations  of  scripture,  when 
they  are  to  be  had,  as  of  co-ordinate  authority,  and  as  both  ter- 
minating in  the  same  sanctions. 

In  the  manner  of  the  work,  I  have  endeavoured  so  to  attemper 
the  opposite  plans  above  animadverted  upon,  as  that  the  reader 
may  not  accuse  me  either  of  too  much  haste,  or  too  much  delay. 
I  have  bestowed  upon  each  subject  enough  of  dissertation  to  give 
a  body  and  substance  to  the  chapter  in  which  it  is  treated  of,  as 
well  as  coherence  and  perspicuity:  on  the  other  hand,  I  have 
seldom,  I  hope,  exercised  the  patience  of  the  reader  by  the  length 
and  prolixity  of  my  essays,  or  disappointed  that  patience  at  last 
by  the  tenuity  and  unimportance  of  the  conclusion. 

There  are  two  particulars  in  the  following  work  for  which  it 
may  be  thought  necessary  that  I  should  offer  some  excuse.  The 
first  of  which  is,  that  I  have  scarcely  ever  referred  to  any  other 
book,  or  mentioned  the  name  of  the  author  whose  thoughts,  and 
sometimes,  possibly,  whose  very  expressions  I  have  adopted. 
My  method  of  writing  has  constantly  been  this  ;  to  extract  what 
I  could  from  my  own  stores  and  my  own  reflections  in  the  first 
place  ;  to  put  down  that ;  and  afterwards  to  consult  upon  each 
subject  such  readings  as  fell  in  my  way  :  which  order,  I  am 
convinced,  is  the  only  one  whereby  any  person  can  keep  his 
thoughts  from  sliding  into  other  men's  trains.  The  effect  of  such 
a  plan  upon  the  production  itself  will  be,  that,  while  some  parts 
in  matter  or  manner  may  be  new,  others  will  be  little  else  than 
a  repetition  of  the  old.  I  make  no  pretensions  to  perfect  original- 
ity :  I  claim  to  be  something  more  than  a  mere  compiler.  Much, 
no  doubt,  is  borrowed ;  but  the  fact  is,  that  the  notes  for  this 
work  having  been  prepared  for  some  years,  and  such  things  hav- 
ing been  from  time  to  time  inserted  in  them  as  appeared  to  me 
worth  preserving,  and  such  insertions  made  commonly  without  the 
name  of  the  author  from  whom  they  were  taken,  I  should,  at  this 
time,  have  found  a  difficulty  in  recovering  these  names  with  suf- 
ficient exactness  to  be  able  to  render  to  every  man  his  own.  Nor, 
to  speak  the  truth,  did  it  appear  to  me  worth  while  to  repeat 
the  search  merely  for  this  purpose.  When  authorities  are  re- 
lied upon,  names  must  be  produced :  when  a  discovery  has  been 


XU  PREFACE. 

made  in  science,  it  may  be  unjust  to  borrow  the  invention  with- 
out acknowledging  the  author.  But  in  an  argumentative  treatise, 
and  upon  a  subject  which  allows  no  place  for  discovery  or  inven- 
tion, properly  so  called  5  and  in  which  all  that  can  belong  to  a 
writer  is  his  mode  of  reasoning,  or  his  judgment  of  probabilities ; 
I  should  have  thought  it  superfluous,  had  it  been  easier  to  me 
than  it  was,  to  have  interrupted  my  text,  or  crowded  my  margin, 
with  references  to  every  author  whose  sentiments  I  have  made  use 
of.  There  is,  however,  one  work,  to  which  I  owe  so  much,  that 
it  would  be  ungrateful  not  to  confess  the  obligation :  I  mean  the 
writings  of  the  late  Abraham  Tucker,  Esq.  part  of  which  were 
published  by  himself,  and  the  remainder  since  his  death,  under 
the  title  of  "  The  Light  of  Nature  pursued,  by  Edward  Search; 
Esq."  1  have  found  in  this  writer  more  original  thinking  and 
observations  upon  the  several  subjects  that  he  has  taken  in  hand, 
than  in  any  other,  not  to  say,  than  in  all  others  put  together. 
His  talent  also  for  illustration  is  unrivalled.  But  his  thoughts 
are  diffused  through  a  long,  various,  and  irregular  work.  I  shall 
account  it  no  mean  praise,  if  I  have  been  sometimes  able  to  dis- 
pose into  method,  to  collect  into  heads  and  articles,  or  to  exhibit 
in  more  compact  and  tangible  masses,  what,  in  that  otherwise  ex- 
cellent performance,  is  spread  over  too  much  surface. 

The  next  circumstance  for  which  some  apology  may  be  expect- 
ed, is  the  joining  of  moral  and  political  philosophy  together,  or  the 
addition  of  a  book  of  politics  to  a  system  of  ethics.  Against  this 
objection,  if  it  be  made  one,  I  might  defend  myself  by  the  example 
of  many  approved  writers,  who  have  treated  de  officiis  hominis 
et  civis,  or,  as  some  choose  to  express  it,  "  of  the  rights  and  ob- 
ligations of  man,  in  his  individual  and  social  capacity,"  in  the 
same  book.  I  might  allege,  also,  that  the  part  a  member  of  the 
commonwealth  shall  take  in  political  contentions,  the  vote  he 
shall  give,  the  councils  he  shall  approve,  the  support  he  shall  af- 
ford, or  the  opposition  he  shall  make,  to  any  system  of  public 
measures — is  as  much  a  question  of  personal  duty,  as  much  con- 
cerns the  conscience  of  the  individual  who  deliberates,  as  the  de- 
termination of  any  doubt  which  relates  to  the  conduct  of  private 
life ;  that  consequently  political  philosophy  is,  properly  speaking, 
a  continuation  of  moral  philosophy;  or  rather  indeed  a  part  of 
it,  supposing  moral  philosophy  to  have  for  its  aim  the  informa- 
tion of  the  human  conscience  in  every  deliberation  that  is  likely 


PREFACE.  X1U 

to  come  before  it.  I  might  avail  myself  of  these  excuses,  if  I 
wanted  them ;  but  the  vindication  upon  which  I  rely  is  the  fol- 
lowing. Instating  the  principle  of  morals,  the  reader  will  ob- 
serve that  I  have  employed  some  industry  in  explaining  the 
theory,  and  shewing  the  necessity  of  general  rules ;  without  the 
full  and  constant  consideration  of  which,  I  am  persuaded  that  no 
system  of  moral  philosophy  can  be  satisfactory  or  consistent. 
This  foundation  being  laid,  or  rather  this  habit  being  formed,  the 
discussion  of  political  subjects,  to  which,  more  than  to  almost 
any  other,  general  rules  are  applicable,  became  clear  and  easy. 
Whereas,  had  these  topics  been  assigned  to  a  distinct  work,  it 
would  have  been  necessary  to  have  repeated  the  same  rudiments, 
to  have  established  over  again  the  same  principles,  as  those  which 
we  had  already  exemplified,  and  rendered  familiar  to  the  reader, 
in  the  former  parts  of  this.  In  a  word,  if  there  appear  to  any 
one  too  great  a  diversity,  or  too  wide  a  distance,  between  the  sub- 
jects treated  of  in  the  course  of  the  present  volume,  let  him  be 
reminded,  that  the  doctrine  of  general  rules  pervades  and  connects 
the  whole. 

It  may  not  be  improper,  however,  to  admonish  the  reader,  that, 
under  the  name  of  politics,  he  is  not  to  look  for  those  occasional 
controversies,  which  the  occurrences  of  the  present  day,  or  any 
temporary  situation  of  public  affairs,  may  excite ;  and  most  of 
which,  if  not  beneath  the  dignity,  it  is  beside  the  purpose  of  a 
philosophical  institution  to  advert  to.  He  will  perceive  that  the 
several  disquisitions  are  framed  with  a  reference  to  the  condition  of 
this  country,  and  of  this  government :  but  it  seemed  to  me  to  be- 
long to  the  design  of  a  work  like  tbe  following,  not  so  much  to 
discuss  each  altercated  point  with  the  particularity  of  a  political 
pamphlet  upon  the  subject,  as  to  deliver  those  universal  princi- 
ples, and  to  exhibit  that  mode  and  train  of  reasoning  in  politics, 
by  the  due  application  of  which  every  man  might  be  enabled  to 
attain  to  just  conclusions  of  his  own. 

I  am  not  ignorant  of  an  objection  that  has  been  advanced 
against  all  abstract  speculations  concerning  the  origin,  principle, 
or  limitation  of  civil  authority  5  namely,  that  such  speculations 
possess  little  or  no  influence  upon  the  conduct  eitber  of  the  state 
or  of  the  subject,  of  the  governors  or  the  governed  :  nor  are  at- 
tended  with  any  useful  consequences  to  either;  that  in  times  of 
tranquillity  they  are  not  wanted  ;  in  times  of  confusion  they  arc 


S1V  PREFACE. 

never  heard.  This  representation  however,  in  my  opinion,  is  not 
just.  Times  of  tumult,  it  is  true,  are  not  the  times  to  learn  ;  but 
the  ehoiee  which  men  make  of  their  9ide  and  party,  in  the  most 
critical  occasions  of  the  commonwealth,  may  nevertheless  depend 
upon  the  lessons  they  have  received,  the  books  they  have  read, 
and  the  opinions  they  have  imbibed,  in  seasons  of  leisure  and. 
quietness.  Some  judicious  persons,  who  were  present  at  Geneva 
during  the  troubles  which  lately  convulsed  that  city,  thought  they 
perceived,  in  the  contentions  there  carrying  on,  the  operation  of 
that  political  theory,  which  the  writings  of  Rousseau,  and  the  un- 
bounded esteem  in  which  these  writings  are  holden  by  his  coun- 
trymen, had  diffused  amongst  the  people*  Throughout  the  polit- 
ical disputes  that  have  within  these  few  years  taken  place  in 
Great  Britain,  in  her  sister  kingdom,  and  in  her  foreign  depen- 
dencies, it  was  impossible  not  to  observe,  in  the  language  of  party, 
in  the  resolutions  of  public  meetings,  in  debate,  in  conversation, 
in  the  general  strain  of  those  fugitive  and  diurnal  addresses  to 
the  public  which  such  occasions  call  forth,  the  prevalency  of 
those  ideas  of  civil  authority  which  are  displayed  in  the  works 
of  Mr.  Locke.  The  credit  of  that  great  name,  the  courage  and 
liberality  of  his  principles,  the  skill  and  clearness  with  which 
his  arguments  are  proposed,  no  less  than  the  weight  of  the  argu- 
ments themselves,  have  given  a  reputation  and  currency  to  his 
opinions,  of  which  I  am  persuaded,  in  any  unsettled  state  of  pub- 
lic affairs,  the  influence  would  be  felt.  As  this  is  not  a  place  for 
examining  the  truth  or  tendency  of  these  doctrines,  I  would  not 
be  understood,  by  what  I  have  said,  to  express  any  judgment 
concerning  either.  I  mean  only  to  remark,  that  such  doctrines 
are  not  without  effect ;  and  that  it  is  of  practical  importance  to 
have  the  principles  from  which  the  obligations  of  social  union, 
and  the  extent  of  civil  obedienee,  are  derived,  rightly  explained 
and  well  understood.  Indeed,  as  far  as  I  have  observed,  in  polit- 
ical, beyond  all  other  subjects,  where  men  are  without  some  fun- 
damental and  scientific  principles  to  resort  to,  they  are  liable  to 
have  their  understandings  played  upon  by  cant  phrases  and  un- 
meaning terms,  of  which  every  party  in  every  country  possesses  a 
vocabulary.  We  appear  astonished  when  we  see  the  multitude 
led  away  by  sounds;  but  we  should  remember  that,  if  sounds 
work  miracles,  it  is  always  upon  ignorance.  The  influence  of 
names  is  in  exact  proportion  to  the  want  of  knowledge. 


PREFACE.  XV 

These  are  the  observations  with  which  I  have  judged  it  expe- 
dient to  prepare  the  attention  of  my  reader.  Concerning  the 
personal  motives  which  engaged  me  in  the  following  attempt,  it  is 
not  necessary  that  I  say  much ;  the  nature  of  my  academical 
situation,  a  gre'at  deal,  of  leisure  since  my  retirement  from  it,  the 
recommendation  of  an  honoured  and  excellent  friend,  the  author- 
ity of  the  venerable  prelate  to  whom  these  labours  are  inscribed, 
the  not  perceiving  in  what  way  I  could  employ  my  time  or  talents 
better,  and  my  disapprobation  in  literary  men  of  that  fastidious 
indolence,  which  sits  still  because  it  disdains  to  do  little,  were 
the  considerations  that  directed  my  thoughtsto  this  design.  Nor 
have  I  repented  of  the  undertaking.  Whatever  be  the  fate  or 
reception  of  this  work,  it  owes  its  author  nothing.  In  sickness 
and  in  health  I  have  found  in  it  that  which  can  alone  alleviate 
the  one,  or  give  enjoyment  to  the  other — occupation  and  en- 
gagement 


CONTENTS, 


BOOK  I. 

PRELIMINARY  CONSIDERATIONS. 


CHAP.  I.    Definition  and  Use  of  the  Science  23 

CHAP.  II.     The  Law  of  Honour   .     .     .     .     .  ib. 

CHAP.  III.     The  Law  of  the  Land   ....  24 

CHAP.  IV.     The  Scriptures 25 

CHAP.  V.     The  Moral  Sense        27 

CHAP.  VI.     Human  Happiness    ...     .     .  33 

CHAP.  VII.     Virtue 43 


BOOK  II. 

MORAL  OBLIGATION. 

CHAP.  I.     The  Question,    Why  am  I  obliged  to 

keep  my  Word  P  considered 50 

CHAP.  II.     What  we   mean,   when   ice  say  a 

Man  is  obliged  to  do  a  thing 51 

CHAP.  III.     The  Question,   Why  am  I  obliged 
to  keep  my  Word  P  resumed    ......     52 

CHAP.  IV.     The  Will  of  God 54 

CHAP.  V.     The  Divine  Benevolence      ...     56 
CHAP.  VI.     Utility  ..     ........     58 

CHAP.  VII.     The  Jfecessity  of  General  Mules     60 


CONTENTS.  XVII 

CHAP.  VIII.     The    Consideration  of    General 

Consequences  pursued 62 

CHAP.  IX.     Of  Eight     ........    (5i< 

CHAP.  X.     The  Division  of  Rights  ....     66 
CHAP.  XI.     The  General  Rights  of  Mankind      70 


BOOK  III 
RELATIVE  DUTIES. 

PART  I. 

OF    RELATIVE    DUTIES    WHICH    ARE    DETERMINATE. 

CHAP.  I.     Of  Property ,      75 

CHAP.  II.     The  Use  of  the  Institution  of  Prop- 
erty        76 

CHAP.  III.     The  History  of  Property  .     .     .       78 
CHAP.  IV.     In  what  the  Right  of  Property  is 

founded      -.     .     ,     , 79 

CHAP.  V.     Promises 84* 

CHAP.  VI.     Contracts        93 

CHAP.  VII.     Contracts  of  Sale 94 

CHAP.  VIII.     Contracts  of  Hazard      .     .     .       97 
CHAP.  IX.     Contracts  of  Lending  of  Incon- 
sumable Property 99 

CHAP.  X.     Contracts  concerning  the  Lending 

of  Money -   .     .     .     .     100 

CHAP.  XL     Contracts  of  Labour — Service    .     104* 
CHAP.  XII.     Contracts  of  Labour — Commis- 
sions  107 

CHAP.  XIIT.     Contracts  of  Labour — Partner- 
ship            ......     109 

2 


XV111  CONTENTS. 

C  HAP.  XIV.     Contracts  of  Labour—  Offices  110 

CHAP.  XV.     Lies     . 113 

CHAP.  XVI.     Oaths il6 

CHAP.  XVII.     Oaths  in  Evidence  ....  121 
CHAP.  XVIII.     Oaths  of  Allegiance    .     .     .  138 
CHAP.  XIX.     Oath  against  Bribery  in  the  Elec- 
tion of  Members  of  Parliament  135 

CHAP.  XX.     Oath  against  Simony       .     .     .  ib. 
CHAP.  XXI.     Oaths  to  observe  local  Statutes  127 
CHAP.  XXII.     Subscription  to  Articles  of  Re- 
ligion         .....  139 

CHAP.  XXIII.     Wills      .'■'■' 130 


BOOK  III. 
PART  II. 

OF    RELATIVE    DUTIES     WHICH     ARE     INDETERMINATE,    AND     OF 
THE    CRIMES    OPPOSITE    TO    THESE. 


CHAP.  I.     Charity 136 

CHAP.  II.     Charity — The   Treatment  of  our 

Domestics  and  Dependents 137 

CHAP.  III.     Slavery 138 

CHAP.  IV.     Charity — Professional  Assistance  141 

CHAP.  V.     Charity — Pecuniary  Bounty     .     .  143 

CHAP.  VI.     Resentment    .......  150 

CHAP.  VII.     Anger 151 

CHAP.  VIII.     Revenge      ./.....  153 

CHAP.  IX.     Duelling .156 

CHAP.  X.     Litigation 159 

CHAP.  XI.     Gratitude  ........  163 

CHAP.  XII.     Slander 163 


CONTENTS.  XIX 


BOOK  III 


PART  III. 

RELATIVE    DUTIES    WHICH    RESULT     FROM     THE     CONSTITUTION 
QF    THE    SEXES,  AND    OF    THE    CRIMES    OPPOSED    TO    THESE. 

CHAP.  I.     Of  the  Public  Use  of  Marriage  In- 
stitutions      -----------  166 

CHAP.  II.    Fornication 167 

CHAP.  III.     Seduction      -     - 173 

CHAP.  IV.     Adultery  --------  174 

CHAP.  V.    Incest 178 

CHAP.  VI.     Poligamy      -------  179 

CHAP.  VII.    Divorce 182 

CHAP.  VIII.     Marriage 188 

CHAP.  IX.     Of  the  Duty  of  Parents    -     -     -  191 

CHAP.  X.     The  Eights  of  Parents      -     -     -  202 

CHAP.  XI.     The  Duty  of  Children      -     -     -  204 


BOOK  IV. 


DUTIES  TO  OURSELVES  AND  THE   CRIMES   OPPO. 
SITE  TO  THESE. 


CHAP.  I.     The  Rights  of  Self  Defence      -     -    809 

CHAP.  II.     Drunkenness 211 

CHAP.  III.     Suicide    T 216 


XX  CONTENTS, 

BOOK  V. 

DUTIES  TOWARDS  GOD. 


CHAP.  I.     Division  of  these  Duties       -     -     -     222 

CHAP.  II.  Of  the  Duty  and  of  the  Efficacy  of 
Prayer,  so  far  as  the  same  appear  from  the 
Light  of  Nature 223 

CHAP.  III.  Of  the  Duty  and  Efficacy  of 
Prayer,  as  represented  in  Scripture    -     -     -     229 

CHAP.  IV.  Of  Private  Prayer,  Family  Prayer 
and  Public  Worship    --------     231 

CHAP.  V.  Of  Forms  of  Prayer  in  Public  Wor- 
ship      --.     236 

CHAP.  VI.  Of  the  Use  of  Sabbatical  Institu- 
tions    "  241 

CHAP.  VII.  Of  the  Scripture  Account  of  Sab- 
batical Institutions      - 243 

CHAP.  VIII.  By  what  Acts  and  Omissions  the 
Duty  of  the  Christian  Sabbath  is  violated      -     253 

CHAP,  IX,     Of  Reverencing  the  Deity     -     -    255 


BOOK  VI. 

ELEMENTS  OF  POLITICAL  KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAP.  I.     Of  the  Origin  of  Civil  Government    262 
CHAP.  II.     How  Subjection  to  Civil  Govern - 
ment  is  maintained 266 


CONTEXTS.  XXi 

CHAP.  III.     The  Duty  of  Submission  to  Civil 

Government  explained -    27 L 

CHAP.  IV.  Of  the  Duty  of  Civil  Obedience,  as 
stated  in  the  Christian  Scriptures  -     -     -     -     281 

CHAP.  V.     Of  Civil  Liberty 288 

CHAP.  VI.  Of  different  Forms  of  Government  292 
CHAP.  VII.  Of  the  British  Constitution  -  300 
CHAP.  VIII.  Of  the  Administration  of  Justice  821 
CHAP.  IX.  Of  Crimes  and  Punishments  -  339 
CHAP.  X.     Of  Religious  Establishments,  and 

of  Toleration 357 

CHAP.  XL  Of  Population  and  Provision  ; 
and  of  Agriculture  and  Commerce,  as  subser- 
vient thereto 377 

CHAP.  XII.  Of  War,  and  of  Military  Estab- 
lishments     -   * 408 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

BOOK  I. 
PRELIMINARY  CONSIDERATIONS, 

CHAPTER  I. 

DEFINITION  AND  USE  OF  THE  SCIENCE. 

MORAL  Philosophy,  Morality,  Ethics,  Casuistry,  Natural 
Law,  mean  all  the  same  thing ;  namely,  That  Science  which 
teaches  men  their  duty,  and  the  reasons  of  it. 

The  use  of  such  a  study  depends  upon  this,  that,  without  it,  the 
rules  of  life,  by  which  men  are  ordinarily  governed,  oftentimes 
mislead  them,  through  a  defect  either  in  the  rule,  or  in  the  appli- 
cation. 

These  rules  are,  the  Law  of  Honour,  the  Law  of  the  Land, 
and  the  Scriptures. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  LAW  OF  HONOUR. 

THE  Law  of  Honour  is  a  system  of  rules  constructed  by  people 
of  fashion,  and  calculated  to  facilitate  their  intercourse  with  one 
another ;  and  for  no  other  purpose. 

Consequently,  nothing  is  adverted  to  by  the  Law  of  Honour, 
but  what  tends  to  incommode  this  intercourse. 

Hence,  this  law  only  prescribes  and  regulates  the  duties,  be- 
twixt  equals  ;  omitting  such  as  relate  to  the  Supreme  Being,  as 
well  as  those  which  we  owe  to  our  inferiors. 

For  which  reason,  profaneness,  neglect  of  public  worship  or 
private  devotion,  cruelty  to  servants,  rigorous  treatment  of  tenants 


&_£  THE  LAW  OF  THE  LAND. 

or  other  dependants,  want  of  charity  to  the  poor,  injuries  done  to 
tradesmen  by  insolvency  or  delay  of  payment,  with  numberless 
examples  of  the  same  kind,  are  accounted  no  breaches  of  honour ; 
because  a  man  is  not  a  less  agreeable  companion  for  these  vices, 
nor  the  worse  to  deal  with,  iu  those  concerns  which  are  usually 
transacted  between  one  gentleman  and  another. 

Again;  the  Law  of  Honour,  being  constituted  by  men  occupied 
in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  for  the  mutual  conveniency  of  such 
men,  will  be  found,  as  might  be  expected  from  the  character  and 
design  of  the  law-makers,  to  be  in  most  instances,  favourable  to 
the  licentious  indulgence  of  the  natural  passions. 

Thus  it  allows  of  fornication,  adultery,  drunkenness,  prodigal- 
ity, duelling,  and  of  revenge  in  the  extreme ;  and  lays  no  stress 
upon  the  virtues  opposite  to  these. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  LAW  OF  THE  LAND. 

THAT  part  of  mankind,  who  are  beneath  the  Law  of  Honour, 
often  make  the  Law  of  the  Land  their  rule  of  life  ;  that  is,  they 
are  satisfied  with  themselves,  so  long  as  they  do  or  omit  nothing, 
for  the  doing  or  omitting  of  which  the  Law  can  punish  them. 

Whereas  every  system  of  human  Laws,  considered  as  a  rule  of 
life,  labours  under  the  two  following  defects  : 

I.  Human  Law's  omit  many  duties,  as  not  objects  of  compulsion  ; 
such  as  piety  to  God,  bounty  to  the  poor,  forgiveness  of  injuries, 
education  of  children,  gratitude  to  benefactors. 

The  law  never  speaks  but  to  command,  nor  commands  but 
where  it  can  compel ;  consequently  those  duties,  which  by  their 
nature  must  be  voluntary,  are  left  out  of  the  statute  book,  as  lying 
beyond  the  reach  of  its  operation  and  authority. 

II.  Human  laws  permit,  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  suffer  to 
go  unpunished,  many  crimes,  because  they  are  incapable  of  being 
defined  by  any  previous  description — Of  which  nature  are  luxury, 
prodigality,  partiality  in  voting  at  those  elections  in  which  the 
qualifications  of  the  candidate  ought  to  determine  the  success, 
caprice  in  the  disposition  of  men's  fortunes  at  their  death,  disre- 
spect to  parents,  and  a  multitude  of  similar  examples. 


THE  SCRIPTURES.  gjj 

'For,  this  is  the  alternative :  either  the  law  must  define  before- 
hand and  with  precision  the  offences  which  it  punishes,  or  it  must 
he  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  magistrate,  to  determine  upon  each 
particular  accusation,  whether  it  constitute  that  offence  which  the 
law  designed  to  punish,  or  not;  which  is,  in  effect,  leaving  to  the 
magistrate  to  punish  or  not  to  punish,  at  his  pleasure,  the  individ- 
ual who  is  brought  before  him;  which  is  just  so  much  tyranny. 
Where,  therefore,  as  in  the  instances  above  mentioned,  the  dis- 
tinction between  right  and  wrong  is  of  too  subtile  or  of  too  se- 
cret a  nature  to  be  ascertained  by  any  preconcerted  language,  the 
law  of  most  countries,  especially  of  free  states,  rather  than  com- 
mit the  liberty  of  the  subject  to  the  discretion  of  the  magistrate, 
leaves  men  in  such  cases  to  themselves. 


6HAPTER  IV. 

THE  SCRIPTURES. 

WHOEVER  expects  to  find  in  the  Scriptures  a  specific  direc- 
tion for  every  moral  doubt  that  arises,  looks  for  more  than  he  will 
meet  with.  And  to  what  a  magnitude  such  a  detail  of  particular 
precepts  would  have  enlarged  the  sacred  volume,  may  be  partly 
understood  from  the  following  consideration  : — The  laws  of  this 
country,  including  the  acts  of  the  legislature,  and  the  decisions  of 
our  supreme  courts  of  justice,  are  not  contained  in  fewer  than  fifty 
folio  volumes  ;  and  yet  it  is  not  once  in  ten  attempts  that  you  cau 
find  the  case  you  look  for,  in  any  law-book  whatever ;  to  say 
nothing  of  those  numerous  points  of  conduct,  concerning  which 
the  law  professes  not  to  prescribe  or  determine  any  thing.  Had 
then  the  same  particularity,  which  obtains  in  human  law  so  far 
as  they  go,  been  attempted  in  the  Scriptures,  throughout  the 
whole  extent  of  morality,  it  is  manifest  they  would  have  been  by 
much  too  bulky  to  be  either  read  or  circulated ;  or  rather,  as  St. 
John  says,  "  even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  books 
that  should  be  written." 

Morality  is  taught  in  Scripture  in  this  wise. — General  rules  are 
laid  down,  of  piety,  justice,  benevolence,  and  purity :  such  as, 
worshipping  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth;  doiag  as  we  would  be 
4* 


^6  THE  SCRIPTURES. 

done  by  ;  loving  our  neighbour  as  ourselves ;  forgiving  others,  as 
we  expect  forgiveness  from  God ;  that  mercy  is  better  than  sacri- 
fice; that  not  that  which  entereth  into  a  man  (nor,  by  parity  of 
reason,  any  ceremonial  pollutions.)  but  that  which  proceedelhfrom 
the  heart,  defileth  him.  These  rules  are  occasionally  illustrated, 
either  by  fictitious  examples,  as  in  the  parable  of  the  goad  Samar- 
itan j  and  of  the  cruel  servant,  who  refused  to  his  fellow  servant 
that  indulgence  and  compassion  which  his  master  had  shewn  to 
him :  or  in  instances  which  actually  presented  themselves,  as  in 
Christ's  reproof  of  his  disciples  at  the  Samaritan  village;  his 
praise  of  the  poor  widow,  who  cast  in  her  last  mite  ;  his  ceusure 
of  the  Pharisees  who  chose  out  the  chief  rooms, — and  of  the  tra- 
dition, whereby  they  evaded  the  command  to  sustain  their  indi- 
gent parents  :  or,  lastly,  in  the  resolution  of  questions,  which  those 
who  were  about  our  Saviour  proposed  to  him  ;  as  his  answer  to 
the  young  man  who  asked  him,  "  What  lack  I  yet  ?"  and  to  the 
honest  scribe,  who  had  found  out,  even  in  that  age  and  country, 
that  "  to  love  God  and  his  neighbour,  was  more  than  all  whole 
burnt  offerings  and  sacrifice." 

And  this  is  in  truth  the  way  in  which  all  practical  sciences 
are  taught,  as  Arithmetic,  Grammar,  Navigation,  and  the  like. — 
Rules  are  laid  down,  and  examples  are  subjoined ;  not  that  these 
examples  are  the  cases,  much  less  all  the  cases  which  will  actu- 
ally occur,  but  by  way  only  of  explaining  the  principle  of  the 
rule,  aud  as  so  many  specimens  of  the  method  of  applying  it. 
The  chief  difference  is,  that  the  examples  in  Scripture  are  not 
annexed  to  the  rules  with  the  didactic  regularity  to  which  we  are 
now-a-days  accustomed,  but  delivered  dispersediy,  as  particular 
occasions  suggested  them ;  which  gave  them,  however,  (especially 
to  those  who  heard  them,  and  were  present  to  the  occasions  which 
produced  them,)  an  energy  and  persuasion,  much  beyond  what  the 
same  or  any  instances  would  have  appeared  with,  in  their  places 
in  a  system. 

Beside  this,  the  Scriptures  commonly  presuppose,  in  the  persons 
to  whom  they  speak,  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  natural  jus- 
tice ;  and  are  employed  not  so  much  to  teach  new  rules  of  morali- 
ty, as  to  enforce  the  practice  of  it  by  new  sanctions,  and  by  a 
greater  certainty  ;  which  last  seems  to  be  the  proper  business  of  a 
revelation  from  God,  and  what  was  most  wanted. 

Thus  the  "  u/ijiist,  covenant  breakers,  and  extortioners,"  are 


THE  juOBAL  SENSE.  g^ 

condemned  in  Scripture,  supposing  it  known,  or  leaving  it,  where 
it  atjpits  of  doubt,  to  moralists  to  determine  what  injustice,  ex- 
tortion, or  breach  of  covenant  are. 

The  above  considerations  are  intended  to  prove  that  the  Scrip- 
tures do  not  supercede  the  use  of  the  science  of  which  we  profess 
to  treat,  and  at  the  same  time  to  acquit  them  of  any  charge  of  im- 
perfection or  insufficiency  on  that  account. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MORAL  SENSE. 

*{  THE  father  of  Cuius  Toranius  had  been  proscribed  by  the 
triumvirate.  Cants  'Toranius,  coming  over  to  the  interests  of 
that  party,  discovered  to  the  officers,  who  were  in  pursuit  of  his 
father's  life,  the  place  where  he  concealed  himself,  and  gave  them 
withal  a  description,  by  which  they  might  distinguish  his  person, 
when  they  found  him.  The  old  man,  more  anxious  for  the  safety 
and  fortunes  of  his  son,  than  about  the  little  that  might  remain  of 
his  own  life,  began  immediately  to  inquire  of  the  officers  who 
seized  him,  whether  his  son  was  well,  whether  he  had  done  his 
duty  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  generals.  That  son,  replied  one  of 
the  officers,  so  dear  to  thy  affections,  betrayed  thee  to  us  ;  by  his 
information  thou  art  apprehended,  and  diest.  The  officer  with 
this  struck  a  poinard  to  his  heart,  and  the  unhappy  parent  fell, 
not  so  much  affected  by  his  fate,  as  by  the  means  to  which  he 
owed  it."* 

Now  the  question  is,  whether,  if  this  story  were  related  to  the 
wild  boy  caught  some  years  ago  in  the  woods  of  Hanover,  or  to  a 
savage  without  experience,  and  without  instruction,  cut  off  in  his 

*  "  Cuius  Toranius  triumvirum  partes  secutus,  pmscripti  patris  sui  prxtorii 
et  ornati  viri  latebras,  setatem,  notasque  corporis,  quibus  agnosci  posset,  cen- 
turionibus  edidit,  qui  eum  persecuti  sunt.  Senex  de  filii  magis  vita,  et  incre- 
mentis,  quain  de  reliquo  spiritu  suo  sollicitus,  an  incolumis  esset,  et  an  impe> 
ratoribus  satisfaceret,  interrogare  eos  cocpit.  E  quibus  unus  :  Ab  illo,  inquif, 
quern  tantopere  dlligis,  demonstratus  nostru  ministerio,  filii  indicio  occideris  : 
protinusque  pectus  ejus  gladio  trajecit.  Collnpsus  itaque  est  infelix,  auctore 
"fcdrs,  quam  ipsacxde,  miscrior."     Valeb.  Max.  lib.  ix.  cap.  11. 

t 


%&  THE  MORAL  SENSE* 

infancy  from  all  intercourse  with  his  species,  and,  eonsequentlyg 
under  no  possible  influence  of  example,  authority,  educatioJhym- 
pathy,  or  habit  j  whether,  1  say,  such  a  one  would  feel,  upon  the 
relation,  any  degree  of  that  sentiment  of  disapprobation  of  Tora- 
nius's  cojiduct  which  we  feel,  or  not. 

They  who  maintain  the  existence  of  a  moral  sense  ;  of  innate 
maxims ;  of  a  natural  conscience  ;  that  the  love  of  virtue  and 
hatred  of  vice  are  instinctive;  or  the  perception  of  right  and 
wrong  intuitive,  (all  which  are  only  different  ways  of  expressing 
the  same  opinion,)  affirm  that  he  would. 

They  who  deny  the  existence  of  a  moral  sense,  &c.  affirm  that 
he  would  not — 

And,  upon  this,  issue  is  joined. 

As  the  experiment  has  never  been  made,  and,  from  the  difficulty 
of  procuring  a  subject,  (not  to  mention  the  impossibility  of  pro- 
posing the  question  to  him,  if  we  had  one,)  is  never  likely  to  be 
made^  what  would  be  the  event,  can  only  be  judged  of  from  pro- 
bable reasons. 

They  who  contend  for  the  affirmative,  observe,  that  we  ap- 
prove examples  of  generosity,  gratitude,  fidelity,  &c.  and  con- 
demn the  conirary,  instantly  without  deliberation,  without  having 
any  interest  of  our  own  concerned  in  them,  oft-times  without 
heins  conscious  of,  or  able  to  give  any  reason  for,  our  approba- 
tion ;  that  this  approbation  is  uniform  and  universal ;  the  same 
sorts  of  conduct  being  approved  or  disapproved  in  all  ages  and 
countries  of  the  world  ;  circumstances,  say  they,  which  strougiy 
indicate  the  operation  of  an  instinct  or  moral  sense. 

On  the  other  hand,  answers  have  been  given  to  most  of  these 
arguments,  by  the  patrons  of  the  opposite  system  :  and 

First,  as  to  the  uniformity  above  alleged,  they  controvert  the 
fact.  They  remark,  from  authentic  accounts  of  historians  and 
travellers,  that  there  is  scarcely  a  single  vice  which,  in  some  age 
or  country  of  the  world,  has  not  been  countenanced  by  public 
opinion  ;  that  in  one  country,  it  is  esteemed  an  office  of  piety  in 
children  to  sustain  their  aged  parents  ;  in  another,  to  dispatch 
them  out  of  the  way  5  that  suicide,  in  one  age  of  the  world,  has 
heen  heroism,  is  in  another  felony  ;  that  theft,  which  is  punished 
hy  most  laws,  by  the  laws  of  Sparta  was  not  unfrequently  re- 
warded ;  that  the  promiscuous  commerce  of  the  sexes,  although 
condemned  by  the  regulations  and  Censure  of  all  civilized  natiojgsi, 


THE  MORAL  SENSE.  g9> 

is  practised  by  the  savages  of  the  tropical  regions,  without  re- 
serve, compunction,  or  disgrace;  that  crimes,  of  which  it  is  no 
longer  permitted  us  even  to  speak,  have  had  their  advocates 
amongst  the  sages  of  very  renowned  times  ;  that,  if  an  inhabitant 
of  the  polished  nations  of  Europe  be  delighted  with  the  appear- 
ance, wherever  he  meets  with  it,  of  happiness,  tranquility,  and 
comfort,  a  wild  American  is  no  less  diverted  with  the  writhings 
and  contortions  of  a  victim  at  the  stake  ;  that  even  amongst 
ourselves,  and  in  the  present  improved  state  of  moral  knowledge, 
we  are  far  from  a  perfect  consent  in  our  opinions  or  feelings  ;  that 
you  shall  hear  duelling  alternately  reprobated  and  applauded, 
according  to  the  sex,  age,  or  station  of  the  person  you  converse 
with  ;  that  the  forgiveness  of  injuries  and  insults  is  accounted 
by  one  sort  of  people  magnanimity,  by  another  meanness  ;  that 
in  the  above  instances,  and  perhaps  in  most  others,  moral  appro* 
bation  follows  the  fashions  and  institutions  of  the  country  we  live 
in  ;  which  fashions  also  and  institutions  themselves  have  grown 
out  of  the  exigencies,  the  climate,  situation,  or  local  circum- 
stances of  the  country ;  or  have  been  set  up  by  the  authority  of 
an  arbitrary  chieftain,  or  the  unaccountable  caprice  of  the  multi- 
tude : — all  which,  they  observe,  looks  very  little  like  the  steady 
hand  and  indelible  characters  of  nature.    But, 

Secondly,  because,  after  these  exceptions  and  abatements,  it 
cannot  be  denied  but  that  some  sorts  of  actions  command  and  re- 
ceive the  esteem  of  mankind  more  than  others ;  and  that  the  ap- 
probation of  them  is  general,  though  not  universal :  as  to  this 
they  say,  that  the  general  approbation  of  virtue,  even  in  in- 
stances where  we  have  no  interest  of  our  own  to  induce  us  to  it, 
may  be  accounted  for,  without  the  assistance  of  a  moral  sense, 
thus  : 

"  Having  experienced,  in  some  instance,  a  particular  conduct 
to  be  beneficial  to  ourselves,  or  observed  that  it  would  be  so,  a 
sentiment  of  approbation  rises  up  in  our  minds  ;  which  senti- 
ment afterwards  accompanies  the  idea  or  mention  of  the  same 
conduct,  although  the  private  advantage  which  first  excited  it  no 
longer  exist.'' 

And  this  continuance  of  the  passion,  after  the  reason  of  it 
has  ceased,  is  nothing  more,  say  they,  than  what  happens  i:i 
other  cases  ;  especially  in  the  love  of  money,  which  is  in  no  per- 
son so  eager,  as  it  is  often  times  found  to  be  in  a  rich  old  miser, 


30  THE  MORAL  SENSE, 

without  family  to  provide  for,  or  friend  to  oblige  by  if,  and  to 
whom  consequently  it  is  no  longer  (and  he  may  be  sensible  of  it 
too)  of  any  real  use  or  value  :  yet  is  this  man  as  much  overjoyed 
with  gain,  and  mortified  by  losses,  as  he  was  the  first  day  he 
opened  his  shop,  and  when  his  very  subsistence  depended  upon 
his  success  in  it. 

By  these  means,  the  custom  of  approving  certain  actions  com- 
menced ;  and  when  once  such  a  custom  hath  got  footing  in  the 
world,  it  is  no  difficult  thing  to  explain  how  it  is  transmitted  and 
continued  ;  for  then  the  greatest  part  of  those  who  approve  of 
virtue,  approve  of  it  from  authority,  by  imitation,  and  from  a 
habit  of  approving  such  and  such  actions,  inculcated  in  early 
youth,  and  receiving,  as  men  grow  up,  continual  accessions  of 
strength  and  vigour,  from  censure  and  encouragement,  from  the 
books  they  read,  the  conversations  tbey  hear,  the  current  appli- 
cation of  epithets,  the  general  turn  of  language,  and  the  various 
other  causes  by  which  it  universally  comes  to  pass,  that  a  society 
of  men,  toucbed  in  the  feeblest  degree  with  the  same  passion, 
soon  communicate  to  one  another  a  great  degree  of  it.*  This  is 
the  case  with  most  of  us  at  present ;  and  is  the  cause  also,  that 
the  process  of  association,  described  in  the  last  paragraph  but 
one,  is  little  now  either  perceived  or  wanted. 

Amongst  the  causes  assigned  for  the  continuance  and  diffusion 
of  the  same  moral  sentiments  amongst  mankind,  we  have  men- 
tioned imitation.  The  efficacy  of  this  principle  is  most  observa- 
ble in  children  ;  indeed,  if  there  be  any  thing  in  them  which  de- 
serves the  name  of  an  instinct,  it  is  their  propensity  to  imitation. 
Now  there  is  nothing  which  children  imitate  or  apply  more 
readily  than  expressions  of  affection  and  aversion,  of  approba- 
tion, hatred,  resentment,  and  the  like  ;  and  when  these  passions 
and  expressions  are  once  connected,  which  they  soon  will  be  by 

*  "  From  instances  of  popular  tumults,  seditions,  factions,  panicks,  and  of 
all  passions,  which  are  shared  with  a  multitude,  we  may  learn  the  influence  of 
society  in  exciting  and  supporting  any  emotion  ;  while  the  most  ungovernable 
disorders  are  raised,  we  find  by  that  means,  from  the  slightest  and  most  frivo- 
lous occasions.  He  must  be  more  or  less  than  man,  who  kindles  not  in  the 
common  blaze.  What  wonder,  then,  that  moral  sentiments  are  found  of  such 
influence  in  life,  though  springing  from  principles,  which  may  appear,  at  first 
sight,  somewhat  small  and  delicate  ?" 

Hume's  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals,  Sect.  IX.  p.  32& 


THE  MORAL  SENSE.  31 

the  same  association  which  unites  words  with  their  ideas,  the 
passion  will  follow  the  expression,  and  attach  upon  the  object  to 
which  the  child  has  been  accustomed  to  apply  the  epithet.  In  a 
word,  when  almost  every  thing  else  is  learned  by  imitation,  can 
we  wonder  to  find  the  same  cause  concerned  in  the  generation  of 
our  moral  sentiments  ? 

Another  considerable  objection  to  the  system  of  moral  instincts 
is  this,  that  there  are  no  maxims  in  the  science,  which  can  well 
be  deemed  innate,  as  none  perhaps  can  be  assigned,  which  are 
absolutely  and  universally  true  ;  in  other  words,  which  do  not 
bend  to  circumstances.  Veracity,  which  seems,  if  any  be,  a 
natural  duty,  is  excused  in  many  cases,  towards  an  enemy,  a 
thief,  or  a  madman.  The  obligation  of  promises,  which  is  a  first 
principle  in  morality,  depends  upon  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  were  made  :  they  may  have  been  unlawful,  or  become 
go  since,  or  inconsistent  with  former  promises,  or  erroneous,  03? 
extorted ;  under  all  which  cases,  instances  may  be  suggested, 
where  the  obligation  to  perform  the  promise  would  be  very  dubi- 
ous, aud  so  of  most  other  general  rules,  when  they  come  to  be 
actually  applied. 

Au  argument  has  also  been  proposed  on  the  same  side  of  the 
question  of  this  kind.  Together  with  the  instinct,  there  must  have 
been  implanted,  it  is  said,  a  clear  and  precise  idea  of  the  object 
upon  which  it  was  to  attach.  The  instinct  and  the  idea  of  the 
object  are  inseparable  even  in  imagination,  and  as  necessarily  ac- 
company each  other  as  any  co-relative  ideas  whatever ;  that  is, 
in  plainer  terms,  if  we  be  prompted  by  nature  to  the  approbation 
of  particular  actions,  we  must  have  received  also  from  nature  a 
distinct  conception  of  the  action  we  are  thus  prompted  to  approve 
which  we  certainly  have  not  received. 

But  as  this  argument  bears  alike  against  all  instincts,  and 
against  their  existence  in  brutes  as  well  as  in  men,  it  will  hardly, 
I  suppose,  produce  conviction,  though  it  may  be  difficult  to  find 
an  answer  to  it. 

Upon  the  whole,  it  seems  to  me,  either  that  there  exists  no  such 
instincts  as  compose  what  is  called  the  moral  sense,  or  that  they 
are  not  now  to  be  distinguished  from  prejudices  and  habits;  on 
which  account  they  cannot  be  depended  upon  in  moral  reasoning: 
I  mean  that  it  is  not  a  safe  way  of  arguing,  to  assume  certain 
principles  as  so  many  dictatesj  impulses,  and  instiacts  ef  nature, 


'3£  THE  MORAL  SENSE. 

and  then  to  draw  conclusions  from  these  principles,  as  to  the  rec- 
titude or  wrongness  of  actions,  independent  of  the  tendency  of 
such  actions,  or  of  any  other  consideration  whatever. 

Aristotle  lays  down,  as  a  fundamental  and  self-evident  maxim, 
that  nature  intended  barbarians  to  be  slaves ;  and  proceeds  to 
deduce  from  this  maxim  a  train  of  conclusions,  calculated  to  jus- 
tify the  policy  which  then  prevailed.  And  I  question  whether 
the  same  maxim  be  not  still  self-evideut  to  the  company  of  mer- 
chants trading  to  the  coast  of  Africa. 

Nothing  is  so  soon  made  as  a  maxim  ;  and  it  appears  from  the 
example  of  Aristotle,  that  authority  and  convenience,  education, 
prejudice,  and  general  practice,  have  no  small  share  in  the  mak- 
ing of  them ;  and  that  the  laws  of  custom  are  very  apt  to  be  mis- 
taken for  the  order  of  nature. 

For  which  reason,  I  suspect,  that  a  system  of  morality,  built 
upon  instincts,  will  only  find  out  reasons  and  excuses  for  opinions 
and  practices  already  established, — will  seldom  correct  or  reform 
either. 

But  further,  suppose  we  admit  the  existence  of  these  instincts, 
what,  it  may  be  asked,  is  their  authority  ?  No  man,  you  say, 
can  act  in  deliberate  opposition  to  them,  without  a  secret  remorse 
of  conscience.  But  this  remorse  may  be  borne  with  : — and  if  the 
sinner  choose  to  bear  with  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  pleasure  or 
profit  which  he  expects  from  his  wickedness ;  or  finds  the  plea- 
sure of  the  sin  to  exceed  the  remorse  of  conscience,  of  which  he 
alone  is  the  judge,  and  concerning  which,  when  he  feels  them 
both  together,  he  can  hardly  be  mistaken,  the  moral-instinct-man, 
so  far  as  I  can  understand,  has  nothing  more  to  offer. 

For  if  he  allege  that  these  instincts  are  so  many  indications  of 
the  will  of  God,  and  consequently  presages  of  what  we  are  to  look 
for  hereafter ;  this,  I  answer,  is  to  resort  to  a  rule  and  a  motive, 
ulterior  to  the  instincts  themselves,  and  at  which  rule  and  motive 
we  shall  by  and  by  arrive  by  a  surer  road  : — I  say  surer,  so  long 
as  there  remains  a  controversy  whether  there  be  any  instinctive 
maxims  at  all ;  or  any  difficulty  in  ascertaining  what  maxims  are 
instinctive. 

This  celebrated  question,  therefore,  becomes  in  our  system  a 
question  of  pure  curiosity;  and  as  such,  we  dismiss  it  to  the  de- 
termination of  those  who  are  more  inquisitive,  than  we  are  con- 
cerned to  be,  about  the  natural  history  and  constitution  of  the 
human  species. 


HUMA.N  HAPPINESS.  §3 

CHAPTER  VI. 
HUM\N  HAPPINESS. 

THE  word  happy  is  a  relative  term  ;  that  is,  when  we  call  a 
anan  happy,  we  mean  that  he  is  happier  than  some  others,  with 
whom  we  compare  him;  than  the  generality  of  others;  or  than 
he  himself  was  in  some  other  situation  ;  thus,  speaking  of  one 
who  has  just  compassed  the  object  of  a  long  pursuit,  "  Now,"  we 
say,  *'  he  is  happy;"  and  in  a  like  comparative  sense,  compared, 
that  is,  with  the  general  lot  of  mankind,  we  call  a  man  happy 
who  possesses  health  and  competency. 

In  strictness,  any  condition  may  he  denominated  happy,  in 
which  the  amount  or  aggregate  of  pleasure  exceeds  that  of  pain  ; 
and  the  degree  of  happiness  depends  upon  the  quantity  of  this 
excess. 

And  the  greatest  quantity  of  it  ordinarily  attainable  in  human 
life,  is  what  we  mean  by  happiness,  when  we  inquire  or  pro- 
nounce what  human  happiness  consists  in.* 

*  If  any  positive  signification,  distinct  from  what  we  mean  by  pleasure,  can 
be  affixed  to  the  term  "  happiness,"  I  should  take  it  to  denote  a  certain  state 
of  the  nervous  system  in  that  part  of  the  human  frame  in  which  we  feel  joy 
and  grief,  passions  and  affections.  Whether  this  part  be  the  heart,  which  the 
turn  of  most  languages  wouldUead  us  to  believe  ;  or  the  diaphragm,  as  BufFon  ; 
or  the  upper  orifice  of  the  stomach,  as  Van  Helmont  thought ;  or  rather  be  a 
kind  of  fine  net- work,  lining  the  whole  region  of  the  precordia,  as  others  have 
imagined :  it  is  possible,  not  only  that  each  painful  sensation  may  violently  shake 
and  disturb  the  fibres  at  the  time,  but  that  a  series  of  such  may  at  length  so  de- 
range the  very  texture  of  the  system,  as  to  produce  a  perpetual  irritation, 
which  will  shew  itself  by  fretfulness,  impatience,  and  restlessness.  It  is  possi- 
ble also,  on  the  other  hand,  that  a  succession  of  pleasureable  sensations  may 
have  such  an  effect  upon  this  subtile  organization,  as  to  cause  the  fibres  to  re- 
lax, and  return  into  their  place  and  order,  and  thereby  to  recover,  or,  if  not 
lost,  to  preserve  that  harmonious  conformation  which  gives  to  the  mind  its 
sense  of  complacency  and  satisfaction.  This  state  may  be  denominated  happi- 
ness, and  is  so  far  distinguishable  from  pleasure,  that  it  does  not  refer  to  any 
particular  object  of  enjoyment,  or  consist,  like  pleasure,  in  the  gratification  of 
one  or  more  of  the  senses,  but  is  rather  the  secondary  effect  which  such  ob- 
jects and  gratifications  produce  upon  the  nervous  system,  or  the  state  in  which 
they  leave  it.  These  conjectures  belong  not,  however,  to  our  province.  The 
comparative  sense,  in  which  we  have  explained  the  term,  happiness,  is  more 
popular,  and  is  sufficient  for  the  purpose  of  the  present  chapter. 
5 


3~£  HUMAN  HAPPINESS. 

In  which  inquiry  I  will  omit  much  usual  declamation  on  the 
dignity  and  capacity  of  our  nature ;  the  superiority  of  the  soul  to 
the  body,  of  the  rational  to  the  animal  part  of  our  constitution  ; 
upon  the  worthiness,  refinement,  and  delicacy  of  some  satisfac- 
tions, or  the  meauness,  grossness  and  sensuality  of  others ;  be- 
cause I  hold  that  pleasures  differ  in  nothing,  but  in  continuance 
and  intensity ;  from  a  just  computation  of  which,  confirmed  by 
what  we  observe  of  the  apparent  cheerfulness,  tranquility,  aud 
contentment,  of  men  of  different  tastes,  tempers,  stations,  and 
pursuits,  every  question  concerning  human  happiness  must  receive 
its  decision. 

It  will  be  our  business  to  show,  if  we  can, 

I.  What  Human  Happiness  does  not  consist  in  : 

II.  What  it  does  consist  in. 

First,  then,  Happiness  does  not  consist  in  the  pleasures  of 
sense,  in  whatever  profusion  or  variety  they  be  enjoyed.  By  the 
pleasures  of  sense,  I  mean,  as  well  the  animal  gratification  of 
eating,  drinking,  and  that  by  which  the  species  is  continued,  as 
the  more  refined  pleasures  of  music,  painting,  architecture,  gar- 
dening, splendid  shews,  theatric  exhibitions,  and  the  pleasures, 
lastly,  of  active  sports,  as  of  hunting,  shooting,  fishing,  &c.     For, 

1st.  These  pleasures  continue  but  a  little  while  at  a  time. 
This  is  true  of  them  all,  especially  of  the  grosser  sort  of  them. 
Laying  aside  the  preparation,  and  the  expectation,  and  comput- 
ing strictly  the  actual  sensation,  we  shall  be  surprised  to  find  how 
inconsiderable  a  portion  of  our  time  they  occupy,  how  few  hours 
in  the  four  and  twenty  they  are  able  to  fill  up. 

2dly,  These  pleasures,  by  repetition,  lose  their  relish.  It  is  a 
property  of  the  machine,  for  which  we  know  no  remedy,  that  the 
organs,  by  which  we  perceive  pleasure,  are  blunted  and  benumb- 
ed by  being  frequently  exercised  in  the  same  way.  There  is 
hardly  any  one  who  has  not  found  the  difference  between  a  grat- 
ification, when  new,  and  when  familiar;  or  any  pleasure  which 
does  not  become  indifferent  as  it  grows  habitual. 

3dly,  The  eagerness  for  high  and  intense  delights  takes  away 
the  relish  from  all  others  ;  and  as  such  delights  fall  rarely  in  our 
way,  the  greater  part  of  our  time  becomes  from  this  cause  empty 
and  uneasy. 

There  is  hardly  any  delusion  by  which  men  are  greater  suffer- 
ers in  their  happiness,  than  by  their  expecting  too  much  from 


HUMAN  HAPPINESS.  35 

what  is  called  pleasure;  that  is,  from  those  intense  delights, 
which  vulgarly  engross  the  name  of  pleasure.  The  very  expec- 
tation spoils  them.  When  they  do  come,  we  are  often  engitged 
in  taking  pains  to  persuade  ourselves  how  much  we  are  pleased, 
rather  than  enjoying  any  pleasure  which  springs  naturally  out 
of  the  object.  And  whenever  we  depend  upon  being  vastly  de- 
lighted, we  always  go  home  secretly  grieved  at  missing  our  aim. 
Likewise,  as  has  been  observed  just  now,  when  this  humour  of 
being  prodigiously  delighted  has  once  taken  hold  of  the  imagina- 
tion, it  hinders  us  from  providing  for,  or  acquiescing  in,  those 
gently  soothing  engagements,  the  due  variety  and  succession  of 
which  are  the  only  things  that  supply  a  continued  stream  of  hap- 
piness. 

What  I  have  been  able  to  observe  of  that  part  of  mankind, 
whose  professed  pursuit  is  pleasure,  and  who  are  withheld  in  the 
pursuit  by  no  restraints  of  fortune,  or  scruples  of  conscience,  cor- 
responds sufficiently  with  this  account.  I  have  commonly  re- 
marked, in  such  men,  a  restless  and  inextinguishable  passion  for 
variety  ;  a  great  part  of  their  time  to  be  vacant,  and  so  much  of 
it  irksome;  and  that, with  whatever  eagerness  and  expectation  they 
set  out,  they  become,  by  degrees,  fastidious  in  their  choice  of 
pleasure,  languid  in  the  enjoyment,  yet  miserable  under  the  want 
of  it. 

The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  there  is  a  limit  at  which  these  pleas- 
ures soon  arrive,  and  from  which  they  ever  afterwards  decline. 
They  are  by  necessity  of  short  duration,  as  the  organs  cannot 
hold  on  their  emotions  beyond  a  certain  length  of  time;  and  if 
you  eudeavour  to  compensate  for  this  imperfection  in  their  nature 
by  the  frequency  with  which  you  repeat  them,  you  suffer  more 
than  you  gain,  by  the  fatigue  of  the  faculties,  and  the  diminution 
of  sensibility. 

We  have  said  nothing  in  this  account  of  tiie  loss  of  opportuni- 
ties, or  the  decay  of  faculties,  which,  whenever  they  happen, 
leave  the  voluptuary  destitute  and  desperate;  teased  by  desires 
that  can  never  be  gratified,  and  the  memory  of  pleasures  which 
must  return  no  more. 

It  will  also  be  allowed  by  those,  who  have  experienced  it,  and 
perhaps  by  those  alone,  that  pleasure  which  is  purchased  by  the 
incumbrance  of  our  fortune,  is  purchased  too  dear;  the  pleasure 
never  compensating  for  the  perpetual  irritation  of  embarrassed 
circumstances. 


36  HUMAN  HAPPINESS. 

These  pleasures,  after  all,  have  their  value;  and  as  the  young 
are  always  too  eager  in  their  pursuit  or' them,  I  be  old  are  sometimes 
too  remiss :  that  is,  too  studious  of  their  ease  to  be  at  the  pains 
for  them  which  they  really  deserve. 

Secondly,  Neither  does  happiness  consist  in  an  exemption  from 
pain,  labour,  care,  business,  suspense,  molestation,  and  "  those 
evils  which  are  without;"  such  a  state  being  usually  attended, 
not  with  ease,  but  with  depression  of  spirits,  a  tastelessness  in  all 
our  ideas,  imaginary  anxieties,  and  the  whole  train  of  hvpochon- 
drical  affections. 

For  which  reason,  the  expectation  of  those,  who  retire  from 
their  shops  and  counting  houses,  to  enjoy  the  remainder  of  their 
days  in  leisure  and  tranquility,  are  seldom  answered  by  the  effect; 
much  less  of  such,  as,  iu  a  fit  of  chagrin,  shut  themselves  up  iu 
cloisters  and  hermitages  or  quit  the  wor'd,  and  their  stations  in  it, 
for  solitude  and  repose. 

Where  there  exists  a  known  external  cause  of  uneasiness,  the 
cauae  may  be  removed,  and  the  uneasiness  will  cease.  But  those 
imaginary  distresses  which  men  feel  for  w<tnt  of  real  ones  (and 
which  are  equally  tormenting,  and  so  far  equally  real  )  as  they 
depend  upon  no  single  or  assignable  subject  of  uneasiness,  admit 
oftentimes  of  no  application  or  relief. 

Hence  a  moderate  pain,  upon  which  the  attention  may  fasten 
and  spend  itself,  is  to  many  a  refreshment:  as  a  fit  of  the  gout 
will  sometimes  cure  the  spleen.  And  the  same  of  any  less  vio- 
lent agitation  of  the  mind,  as  a  literary  controversy,  a  law-suit, 
a  contested  election,  and,  above  all,  gaming;  the  passion  for 
which,  in  men  of  fortunes  and  liberal  minds,  is  only  to  be  ac- 
counted for  ou  this  principle. 

Thirdly,  Neither  does  happiness  consist  in  greatness,  rank,  or 
elevated  station. 

Were  it  true  that  all  superiority  afforded  pleasure,  it  would 
follow,  that  by  how  much  we  were  the  greater,  that  is,  the  more 
persons  we  were  superior  to,  iu  the  same  proportion,  so  far  as 
depended  upon  this  cause,  we  should  be  the  happier;  but  so  it  is, 
that  no  superiority  yields  any  satisfaction,  save  that  which  we 
possess  or  obtain  over  those  with  whom  we  immediately  compare 
ourselves.  The  shepherd  perceives  no  pleasure  in  his  superiority 
over  his  dog;  the  farmer,  in  his  superiority  over  the  shepherd; 
the  lord,  in  his  superiority  over  the  farmer;  nor  the  king,  lastly. 


HUMAN  HAPPINESS.  3»r 

in  his  superiority  over  the  lord.  Superiority,  where  there  is  no 
competition,  is  seldom  contemplated ;  what  most  meu  are  quite 
unconscious  of. 

But  if  the  same  shepherd  can  run,  fight,  or  wrestle,  hetter  than 
the  peasants  of  his  village ;  if  the  farmer  can  show  hetter  cattle, 
if  he  keep  a  better  horse,  or  he  supposed  to  have  a  longer  purse 
than  any  farmer  in  the  hundred;  if  the  lord  have  more  interest 
in  an  election,  greater  favour  at  court,  a  hetter  house,  or  larger 
estate  than  any  nobleman  in  the  country  ;  if  the  king  possess  a 
more  extensive  territory,  a  more  powerful  fleet  or  army,  a  more 
splendid  establishment,  more  loyal  subjects,  or  more  weight  and 
authority  in  adjusting  the  affairs  of  nations,  than  any  prince  in 
Europe :  in  all  these  cases,  the  parties  feel  an  actual  satisfaction 
in  their  superiority. 

Now  the  conclusion  that  follows  from  hence  is  this;  that  the 
pleasures  of  ambition,  which  are  supposed  to  be  peculiar  to  high 
stations,  are  in  reality  common  to  all  conditions.  The  farrier 
who  shoes  a  horse  better,  and  who  is  in  greater  request  for  his 
skill  than  any  man  within  ten  miles  of  him,  possesses,  for  all  that 
I  can  see,  the  delight  of  distinction  and  of  excelling,  as  tru!y  and 
substantially  as  the  statesman,  the  soldier,  and  the  scholar,  who 
have  filled  Europe  with  the  reputation  of  their  wisdom,  their 
valour,  or  their  knowledge. 

No  superiority  appears  to  he  of  any  account,  but  superiority 
over  a  rival.  This,  it  is  manifest,  may  exist  wherever  rivalships 
do  ;  and  rivalships  fall  out  amongst  men  of  ail  ranks  and  degrees. 
The  object  of  emulation,  the  dignity  or  magnitude  of  this  object, 
makes  no  difference;  as. it  is  not  what  either  possesses  that  con- 
stitutes the  pleasure,  but  what  one  possesses  more  than  the  ejhcr. 

Philosophy  smiles  at  the  contempt  with  which  the  rich  and 
great  speak  of  the  petty  strifes  and  competitions  of  the  poor;  not 
reflecting  that  these  slrifes  and  competitions  are  just  as  reasona- 
ble as  their  own,  and  the  pleasure,  which  success  affords,  the  same. 

Our  position  is,  that  happiness  does  not  consist  in  greatness. 
And  this  position  we  make  out  by  shewing,  that  even  what  are 
supposed  to  be  the  peculiar  advantages  of  greatness,  the  pleasures 
of  ambition  and  superiority,  are  in  realify  common  to  all  eomli- 
lions.  But  whether  the  pursuits  of  ambition  be  ever  wise, 
whether  they  contribute  more  to  the  happiness  or  misery  of  t!-e 
pursuers,  is  a  different  question;  and  a  question  concerning  which 


38  HUMAN  HAPPINESS. 

we  may  be  allowed  to  entertain  great  doubt.  The  pleasure  of 
success  is  exquisite ;  so  also  is  the  anxiety  of  the  pursuit,  and  the 
pain  of  disappointment; — and  what  is  the  worst  part  of  the  ac- 
count, the  pleasure  is  short-lived.  We  soon  cease  to  look  back 
upon  those  whom  we  have  left  behind  ;  new  contests  are  engaged 
in,  new  prospects  unfold  themselves  ;  a  succession  of  struggles 
is  kept  up,  whilst  there  is  a  rival  left  within  the  compass  of  our 
views  and  profession  ;  and  when  there  is  none,  the  pleasure  with 
the  pursuit  is  at  an  end. 

II.  We  have  seen  what  happiness  does  not  consist  in.  We  are 
next  to  consider  in  what  it  does  consist. 

In  the  conduct  of  life,  the  great  matter  is,  to  know  beforehand, 
what  will  please  us,  and  what  pleasures  will  hold  out.  So  far  as 
we  know  this,  our  choice  will  be  justified  by  the  event.  And  this 
knowledge  is  more  scarce  and  difficult  than  at  first  sight  it  may 
seem  to  be  :  for  sometimes,  pleasures,  which  are  wonderfully  al- 
luring and  flattering  in  the  prospect,  turn  out  in  the  possession 
extremely  insipid  ;  or  do  not  hold  out  as  we  expected  j  at  other 
times,  pleasures  start  up,  which  never  entered  into  our  calcula- 
tions ;  and  which  we  might  have  missed  of  by  not  foreseeing : 
whence  we  have  reason  to  believe,  that  we  actually  do  miss  of 
many  pleasures  from  the  same  cause  I  say,  to  know  *'  before- 
hand," for,  after  the  experiment  is  tried,  it  is  commonly  imprac- 
ticable to  retreat  or  change ;  beside,  that  shifting  and  changing  is 
apt  to  generate  a  habit  of  restlessness,  which  is  destructive  of  the 
happiness  of  every  condition. 

By  reason  of  the  original  diversity  of  taste,  capacity  and  con- 
stitution, observable  in  the  human  species,  and  the  still  greater 
variety,  which  habit  and  fashion  have  introduced  in  these  parti- 
culars, it  is  impossible  to  propose  any  plan  of  happiness,  which 
will  succeed  to  all,  or  any  method  of  life  which  is  universally  eli- 
gible or  practicable. 

All  that  can  be  said  is,  that  there  remains  a  presumption  in 
favour  of  those  conditions  of  life,  in  which  men  generally  appear 
most  eheerful  and  contented.  For  though  the  apparent  happiness 
of  mankind  be  not  always  a  true  measure  of  their  real  happiness, 
it  is  the  best  measure  we  have. 

Taking  this  for  my  guide,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  happf- 
aess  consists, 

I.  In  the  exercise  of  the  social  affections. 


HUMAN  HAPPINESS.  3$ 


Those  persons  commonly  possess  good  spirits,  who  hare  about 
them  many  objects  of  affection  aad  endearment,  as  wife,  children, 
kindred,  friends.  And  to  the  want  of  these  may  be  imputed  the 
peevishness  of  -fip^pg^K^H^Hf  such  as  lead  a  monastick  life. 

Of  the  same  nature  with  the  indulgence  of  our  domestic  affec- 
tions, and  equally  refreshing  to  the  spirits,  is  the  pleasure  which 
results  from  acts  of  bounty  and  beneficence,  exercised  either  in 
giving  money,  or  in  imparting  to  those  who  want  it  the  assistance 
of  our  skill  and  profession. 

Another  main  article  of  human  happiness  is, 

II.  The  exercise  of  our  faculties,  either  of  body  or  mind,  in  the 
pursuit  of  some  engaging  end. 

It  seems  to  be  true,  that  no  plenitude  of  present  gratifications 
can  make  the  possessor  happy  for  a  continuance,  unless  he  have 
something  in  reserve, — something  to  hope  for,  and  look  forward 
to.  This  I  conclude  to  be  the  case,  from  comparing  the  alacrity 
and  spirits  of  men  who  are  engaged  in  any  pursuit  which  inter- 
ests them,  with  the  dejection  and  ennui  of  almost  all,  who  are 
either  born  to  so  much  that  they  want  nothing  more,  or  who  have 
used  up  their  satisfactions  too  soon,  and  drained  the  sources  of 
them. 

It  is  this  intolerable  vacuity  of  mind,  which  carries  the  rich 
and  great  to  the  horse-course  and  the  gaming-table;  and  often 
engages  them  in  contests  and  pursuits,  of  which  the  success  bears 
no  proportion  to  the  solicitude  and  expense  with  which  it  is  sought. 
An  election  for  a  disputed  borough  shall  cost  the  parties  twenty 
or  thirty  thousand  pounds  each, — to  say  nothing  of  the  anxiety, 
humiliation,  and  fatigue  of  the  canvass  ;  when  a  seat  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  of  exactly  the  same  value,  may  be  had  for 
a  tenth  part  of  the  money,  and  with  no  trouble.  I  do  not  mention 
this  to  blame  the  rich  and  great,  (perhaps  they  cannot  do  better,) 
but  in  confirmation  of  what  I  have  advanced. 

Hope,  which  thus  appears  to  be  of  so  much  importance  to  our 
happiness,  is  of  two  kinds  ;  where  there  is  something  to  be  done 
towards  attaining  the  object  of  our  hope,  and  where  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done.  The  first  alone  is  of  any  value ;  the  latter  be- 
ing apt  to  corrupt  into  impatience,  having  no  power  but  to  sit  still 
and  wait,  which  soon  grows  tiresome. 

The  doctrine  delivered  under  this  head  may  be  readily  -ad- 
mitted ;  but  how  to  provide  ourselves  with  a  succession  of  pleasur- 


40  HUMAN  HAPPINESS. 

able  engagements,  is  the  difficulty.  This  requires  two  things ; 
judgment  in  the  choice  of  ends  adapted  to  our  opportunities  :  and 
a  command  of  imagination,  so  as  to  be  able,  when  the  judgment 
lias  made  choice  of  an  end,  to  transfer  a  pleasure  to  the  means  : 
after  which  the  end  may  be  forgotton  as  soon  as  we  will. 

Hence  those  pleasures  are  most  valuable,  not  which  are  most 
exquisite  in  the  fruition,  but  which  are  most  productive  of  en- 
gagement and  activity  in  the  pursuit. 

A  man  who  is  in  earnest  in  his  endeavours  after  the  happiness 
of  a  future  state,  has,  in  this  respect,  an  advantage  over  all  the 
world;  for  he  has  constantly  before  his  eyes  an  object  of  supreme 
importance,  productive  of  perpetual  engagement  and  activity,  and 
of  which  the  pursuit  (which  can  be  said  of  no  pursuit  besides) 
lasts  him  to  his  life's  end.  Yet  even  he  must  have  many  ends, 
beside  the  far  end:  but  then  they  will  conduct  to  that,  be  subor- 
dinate, and  in  some  way  or  other  capable  of  being  referred  to 
that,  aud  derive  their  satisfaction,  or  an  addition  of  satisfaction, 
from  that. 

Engagement  is  every  thing.  The  more  significant,  however, 
our  engagements  are,  the  better:  such  as  the  planning  of  laws, 
institutions,  manufactures,  charities,  improvements,  public  works  ; 
and  the  endeavouring,  by  our  interest,  address,  solicitations,  aud 
activity,  to  carry  them  into  effect:  or,  upon  a  smaller  scale,  the 
procuring  of  a  maintenance  and  fortune  for  our  families  by  a 
course  of  industry  and  application  to  our  callings,  which  forms 
and  gives  motion  to  the  common  occupations  of  life  ;  training  up 
a  child  ;  prosecuting  a  scheme  for  his  future  establishment;  mak- 
ing ourselves  masters  of  a  language  or  a  science;  improving  or 
managing  an  estate  ;  labouring  after  a  piece  of  preferment ;  and 
lastly,  any  engagement,  which  is  innocent,  is  better  than  none;  as 
the  writing  a  of  book,  the  building  of  a  house,  the  laying  out  of  a 
garden,  the  digging  of  a  fish-pond, — even  the  raising  of  a  cucum- 
ber or  a  tulip. 

Whilst  our  minds  are  taken  up  with  the  objects  or  business  be- 
fore us,  we  are  commonly  happy,  whatever  the  object  or  business 
be :  when  the  mind  is  absent,  and  the  thoughts  are  wandering  to 
something  else  than  what  is  passing  in  the  place  in  which  we  are, 
we  are  often  miserable. 

III.  Happiness  depends  upon  the  prudent  constitution  of  the 
habit  3. 


HUMAN  HAPPINESS.  4£ 

The  art  in  which  the  secret  of  human  happiness  in  a  great 
measure  consists,  is  to  set  the  habits  in  such  a  manner  that  every 
change  may  be  a  change  for  the  better.     The  habits  themselves 
are  much  the  same ;  for,  whatever  is  made  habitual,    becomes 
smooth,  and  easy,  and  nearly  indifferent.     The  return  to  an  old 
habit  is  likewise  easy,  whatever  the  habit  be.     Therefore  the  ad- 
vantage is  with  those  habits  which  allow  of  an  indulgence  in  the 
deviation  from  them.     The  luxurious  receive  no  greater  pleasure 
from   their  dainties,  than  the  peasant  does  from  his  bread  and 
cheese  :  but  the  peasant,  whenever  he  goes  abroad,  finds  a  feast; 
whereas  the  epicure  must  be  well  entertained,  to  escape  disgust. 
Those  who  spend  every  day  at  cards,  and  those  who  go  every  day 
to  plough,  pass  their  time  much  alike  ;  intent  upon  what  they  are 
about,  wanting  nothing,  regretting  nothing,  they  are  both  for  the 
time  in  a  state  of  ease :  but  then,  whatever  suspends  the  occupa- 
tion of  the  card-player,  distresses  him;  whereas  to  the  labourer, 
every  interruption  is  a  refreshment :  and  this  appears  in  the  dif- 
ferent effects  that  Sunday  produces  upon  the  two,  which  proves  a 
day  of  recreation  to  the  one,  but  a  lamentable  burthen  to  the  other. 
The  man  who  has  learned  to  live  alone,  feels  his  spirits  enlivened 
whenever  he  enters  into  company,  and  takes  his  leave  without 
regret ;  another,  who   has  long  been  accustomed  to  a  crowd,  or 
continual  succession  of  company,  experiences  in  company  no  ele- 
vation of  spirits,  nor  any  greater  satisfaction,  than  what  the  man 
of  retired  life  finds  in  his  chimney-corner.     So  far  their  conditions 
are  equal ;  but  let  a  change  of  place,  fortune,  or  situation,  sepa- 
rate  the  companion  from  his  circle,  his  visitors,  his  club,  com- 
mon-room, or  coffee-house,  and  the  difference  of  advantage  in  the 
choice  and  constitution  of  the  two  habits  will  shew  itself.     Soli- 
tude comes  to  the  one  clothed  with  melancholy  ;  to  the  other  it 
brings  liberty  and  quiet.     You  will  see  the  one  fretful  and  rest- 
less, at  a  loss  how  to  dispose  of  his  time,  till  the  hour  come  round 
when  he  may  forget  himself  in  bed;  the  other  easy  and  satisfied, 
taking  up  his  book,  or  his  pipe,  as  soon  as  he  finds  himself  alone; 
ready  to  admit  any  little  amusement  that  casts  up,  or  to  turn  his 
hands  and  attention  to  the  first  business  that  presents  itself;  or 
content,  without  either,  to  sit  still,  and  let  his  train  of  thought 
glide  indolently  through  his  brain,  without  much  use,  perhaps,  or 
pleasure,  but  without  hankering  after  any  thing  better,  and  without 
irritation. — A  reader,  who  has  innred  himself  to  books  of  soieBce 
6 


X 


4$  HUMAN  HAPPINESS. 

and  argumentation,  if  a  novel,  a  well  written  pamphlet,  an  arti- 
cle of  news,  a  narrative  of  a  curious  voyage,  or  a  journal  of  a 
traveller,  fall  in  his  way,  sits  down  to  the  repast  with  relish  ;  en- 
joys bis  entertainment  while  it  lasts,  and  can  return,  when  it  is 
over,  to  his  graver  reading,  without  distaste.  .  Another,  with 
whom  nothing  will  go  down  but  works  of  humour  and  pleasantry, 
or  whose  curiosity  must  be  interested  by  perpetual  novelty,  will 
consume  a  bookseller's  window  in  half  a  forenoon  ;  during  which 
time  he  is  rather  in  search  of  diversion  than  diverted  ;  and  as 
books  to  his  taste  are  few,  and  short,  and  rapidly  read  over,  the 
stock  is  soon  exhausted,  when  he  is  left  without  resource  from  this 
principal  supply  or  harmless  amusement. 

So  far  as  circumstances  of  fortune  conduce  to  happiness,  it  is 
not  the  income,  which  any  man  possesses,  but  the  increase  of  in- 
come, that  affords  the  pleasure.  Two  persons,  of  whom  one 
begius  with  a  hundred,  and  advances  his  income  to  a  thousand 
ponnds  a  year,  and  the  other  sels  off  with  a  thousand,  and  dwin- 
dles down  to  a  hundred,  may,  in  the  course  of  their  time,  have  the 
receipt  and  spending  of  the  same  sum  of  money  ;  yet  their  satis- 
faction, so  far  as  fortune  is  concerned  in  it,  will  be  very  different ; 
the  series  and  sum  total  of  their  incomes  being  the  same,  it  makes 
a  wide  difference  at  which  end  they  begin. 

IV.  Happiness  consists  in  health. 

By  health  I  understand,  as  well  freedom  from  bodily  distem- 
pers, as  that  tranquility,  firmness,  and  alacrity  of  mind,  which  we 
call  good  spirits;  and  which  may  properly  enough  he  included  in 
our  notion  of  health,  as  depending  commonly  upon  the  same  causes, 
and  yielding  to  the  same  management,  as  our  bodily  constitution. 

Health,  in  this  sense,  is  the  one  thing  needful.  Therefore  no 
pains,  expense,  self-denial,  or  restraint,  to  which  we  subject  our- 
selves for  the  sake  of  health,  is  too  much.  Whether  it  require 
us  to  relinquish  lucrative  situations,  to  abstain  from  favourite  in- 
digencies, to  control  intemperate  passions,  or  undergo  tedious 
regimens  ;  whatever  difficulties  it  lays  us  under,  a  man,  who  pur- 
sues his  happiness  rationally  and  resolutely,  will  be  content  to 
submit. 

When  we  are  in  perfect  health  and  spirits,  we  feel  in  ourselves 
a  happiness  independent  of  any  particular  outward  gratification 
whatever,  and  of  which  we  can  give  no  account.  This  is  an  enjoy- 
ment which  the  Deity  has  annexed  to  life  5  and  it  probably  con- 


VIRTUE.  43 

,stitules,  in  a  great  measure,  (lie  happiness  of  infants  and  brutes, 
especially  of  the  lower  and  sedentary  orders  of"  animals,  as  of  oys- 
ters, periwinkles,  and  the  like;  for  which  1  have  sometimes  been 
at  a  loss  to  find  out  amusement. 

The  above  account  of  human  happiness  will  justify  the  two 
following  conclusions,  which,  although  found  in  most  books  of 
morality,  have  seldom,  I  think,  been  supported  by  any  suitieient 
reasons: — 

First,  That  happiness  is  pretty  equally  distributed  amongst 
the  different  orders  of  civil  society  : 

Secondly,  That  vice  has  no  advantage  over  virtue,'  even  with 
respect  to  this  world's  happiness. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

VIRTUE. 

VIRTUE  is,  "  the  doing  good  to  mankind,  in  obedience  to  the 
will  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness?' 

According  to  which  definition,  "  the  good  of  mankind''  is  the 
subject;  the  "  will  of  God"  the  rule;  and  '•  everlasting  happi- 
ness" the  motive  of  human  virtue. 

Virtue  has  been  divided  by  some  moralists  into  benevolence,  pru- 
dence, fortitude,  and  temperance.  Benevolence  proposes  good 
ends  ;  prudence  suggests  the  best  means  of  attaining  them  ;  forti- 
tude enables  us  to  encounter  the  difficulties,  dangers,  and  dis- 
couragements, which  stand  in  our  way  in  the  pursuit  of  these 
ends  ;  temperance  repels  and  overcomes  the  passions  that  obstruct 
it.  Benevolence,  for  instance,  prompts  us  to  undertake  the  cause 
of  an  oppressed  orphan  ;  prudence  suggests  the  best  means  of 
going  about  it;  fortitude  enables  us  to  confront  the  danger,  and 
bear  up  against  the  loss,  disgrace,  or  repulse,  that  may  attend 
our  undertaking;  and  temperance  keeps  under  the  love  of  money, 
of  ease,  or  amusement,  « Inch  might  divert  us  from  it. 

Virtue  is  distinguished  by  others  into  two  branches  only,  pru- 
dence and  benevolence ;  prudence,  attentive  to  our  own  interest; 
benevolence,  to  that  of  our  fellow  creatures:  both  directed  to  the 
same  end,  the  increase  of  happiness  in  nature :  and  taking  equal 
concern  in  the  future  as  in  the  present. 


44  VIRTUE. 

The  four  Cardinal  virtues  are, prudence,  fortitude,  temperance, 
and  justice. 

But  the  division  of  virtue,  to  which  we  are  in  modern  times 
most  accustomed,  is  into  duties, 

Towards  God;  as  piety,  reverence,  resignation,  gratitude,  &c 

Towards  other  men  (or  relative  duties) ;  as  justice,  charity, 
fidelity,  loyalty,  Sec. 

Towards  ourselves  ;  as  chastity,  sobriety,  temperance,  preser- 
vation of  life,  care  of  health,  &c. 

More  of  these  distinctions  have  been  proposed,  which  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  set  down. 


I  shall  proceed  to  state  a  few  observations,  which  relate  to  the 
general  regulation  of  human  conduct ;  unconnected  indeed  with 
each  other,  but  very  worthy  of  attention;  and  which  fall  as 
properly  under  the  title  of  this  chapter  as  of  any  future  one. 

I.  Mankind  act  more  from  habit  than  reflection. 

It  is  on  few  only  and  great  occasions  that  men  deliberate  at  all  ; 
on  fewer  still,  that  they  institute  any  thing  like  a  regular  inquiry 
into  the  moral  rectitude  or  depravity  of  what  they  are  about  to 
do ;  or  wait  for  the  result  of  it.  We  are  for  the  most  part  deter- 
mined at  once  ;  and  by  an  impulse,  which  is  the  effect  and  energy 
of  pre-established  habits.  And  this  constitution  seems  well 
adapted  to  the  exigencies  of  human  life,  and  to  the  imbecility  of 
our  moral  principle.  In  the  current  occasions  and  rapid  oppor- 
tunities of  life,  there  is  oftentimes  little  leisure  for  reflection ;  and 
were  there  more,  a  man,  who  has  to  reason  about  his  duty,  when 
the  temptation  to  transgress  it  is  upon  him,  is  almost  sure  to  rea- 
son himself  into  an  error. 

If  we  are  in  so  great  a  degree  passive  under  our  habits,  where, 
it  is  asked,  is  the  exercise  of  virtue,  the  guilt  of  vice,  or  any  use 
of  moral  and  religious  knowledge  ?  I  answer,  In  the  forming  and 
contracting  of  these  habits. 

And  from  hence  results  a  rule  of  life  of  considerable  importance, 
.viz.  that  many  things  are  to  be  done,  and  abstained  from,  solely 
for  the  sake  of  habit.  We  will  explain  ourselves  by  an  example 
or  two.  A  beggar,  with  the  appearance  of  extreme  distress,  asks 
our  charity.    If  we  come  to  argue  the  matter,  whether  the  dis- 


VIRTUE,  45 

iress  be  real,  whether  it  be  not  brought  upon  himself,  whether  it 
be  of  public  advantage  to  admit  such  applications,  whether  it  ba 
not  to  encourage  idleness  and  vagrancy,  whether  it  may  not  in- 
vite impostors  to  our  doors,  whether  the  money  can  be  well  spar- 
ed, or  might  not  be  better  applied  ;  when  these  considerations  are 
put  together,  it  may  appear  very  doubtful,  whether  we  ought  or 
ought  not  to  give  any  thing.  But  when  we  reflect,  that  the  mis- 
ery before  our  eyes  exeites  our  pity,  whether  we  will  or  not;  that 
it  is  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  us  to  cultivate  this  tenderness 
of  mind  ;  that  it  is  a  quality,  cherished  by  indulgence,  and  soou 
stifled  by  opposition  ;  when  this,  1  say,  is  considered,  a  wise  man 
will  do  that  for  his  own  sake,  which  he  would  have  hesitated  to 
do  for  the  petitioner's  ;  he  will  give  way  to  his  compassion,  rather 
than  offer  violence  to  a  habit  of  so  much  general  use. 

A  man  of  confirmed  good  habits  will  act  in  the  same  manner 
without  any  consideration  at  all.  ytj 

This  may  serve  for  one  inslauce ;  another  is  the  following.  A 
man  has  been  brought  up  from  his  infancy  with  a  dread  of  lying. 
An  occasion  presents  itself  where,  at  the  expense  of  a  little  verac- 
ity, he  may  divert  his  company,  set  off  his  own  wit  with  advan- 
tage, attract  the  notice  and  engage  the  partiality  of  all  about  him. 
This  is  not  a  small  temptation.  And  when  he  looks  at  the  other 
side  of  the  question,  he  sees  no  mischief  that  can  ensue  from  this 
liberty,  no  slander  of  any  man's  reputation,  no  prejudice  likely  to 
arise  to  any  man's  interest.  Were  there  nothing  further  to  be 
considered,  it  would  he  difficult  to  show  why  a  man  under  such 
circumstances  might  not  indulge  his  humour.  But  when  he  reflects 
that  his  scruples  about  lying  have  hitherto  preserved  him  free  from 
tltis  vice;  that  occasions  like  the  present  will  re* urn,  where  the 
inducement  may  be  equally  strong,  but  the  indulgence  much  less 
innocent;  that  his  scruples  will  wear  away  by  a  few  transgres- 
sions, and  leave  him  subject  to  one  of  the  meanest  and  most  per- 
nicious of  all  bad  habits,  a  habit  of  lying  whenever  it  will  serve 
his  turn  :  when  all  this,  1  say,  is  considered,  a  wise  man  will 
forego  the  present  or  a  much  greater  pleasure,  rather  than  lay 
the  foundation  of  a  character  so  vicious  and  contemptible. 

From  what  has  been  said  may  be  explained  also  the  nature  of 
habitual  virtue.  By  the  definition  of  virtue,  placed  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  chapter,  it  appears,  that  the  good  of  mankind  is  the 
subject,  the  will  of  God  the  rule,  and  everlasting  happiness  the 


46  VIRTUE. 

motive  and  end  of  all  virtue.  Yet,  in  fact,  a  man  shall  perform* 
many  an  act  of  virtue,  without  having  either  the  good  of  man- 
kind, the  will  of  God,  or  everlasting  happiness  in  his  thought. 
JIow  is  this  to  be  understood  ?  In  the  same  manner  as  that  a 
man  may  be  a  very  good  servant,  without  being  conscious,  at 
every  turn,  of  a  particular  regard  to  his  master's  will,  or  of  an  ex- 
press attention  to  his  master's  interest ;  indeed  your  best  old  ser- 
vants are  of  this  sort:  but  then  he  must  have  served  for  a  length 
of  time  under  the  actual  direction  of  these  motives  to  bring  it  to 
this  :  in  which  service  his  merit  and  virtue  consist. 

There  are  habits,  not  only  of  drinking,  swearing,  and  lying, 
and  of  some  other  things,  which  are  commonly  acknowledged  to 
be  habits,  and  called  so;  but  of  every  modification  of  action, 
speech,  and  thought.     Man  is  a  bundle  of  habits. 

There  are  habits  of  industry,  attention,  vigilance,  advertency; 
of  a  prompt  obedience  to  the  judgmeut  occurring,  or  of  yielding 
io  the  first  impulse  of  passion;  of  extending  our  views  to  the  fu- 
ture, or  of  resting  upon  the  present;  of  apprehending,  methodiz- 
ing, reasoning ;  of  indolence  and  dilatoriness ;  of  vanity,  self-con- 
ceit, melancholy,  partiality ;  of  fretfulness,  suspicion,  captious- 
uess,  censoriousness  ;  of  pride,  ambition,  covetousness  ;  of  over- 
reaching, intriguing,  projecting.  In  a  word,  there  is  not  a  quality 
or  function,  either  of  body  or  mind,  which  does  not  feel  the  in- 
fluence of  this  great  law  of  animated  nature. 

II.  The  Christian  religion  hath  not  ascertained  the  precise 
quantity  of  virtue  necessary  to  salvation. 

This  has  been  made  an  objection  to  Christianity;  but  without 
reason.  For,  as  all  revelation,  however  imparted  originally, 
must  be  transmitted  by  the  ordinary  vehicle  of  language,  it  be- 
5ioves  those  who  make  the  objection  to  show  that  any  form  of 
words  eould  be  devised,  which  might  express  this  quantity  ;  or 
that  it  is  possible  to  constitute  a  standard  of  moral  attainments, 
accommodated  to  the  almost  infinite  diversity  which  subsists  in 
the  capacities  and  opportunities  of  different  men. 

It  seems  most  agreeable  to  our  conceptions  of  justice,  and  is 
consonant  enough  to  the  language  of  scripture,*  to  suppose,  that 

•  "  He  which  soweth  sparingly  shall  reap  also  sparingly ;  and  he  which 
soweth  bountifully  shall  reap  also  bountifully."  2  Cor.  ix.  6. — "  And  that 
servant  which  knew  his  Lord's  will,  and  prepared  not  himself,  neither  did 


VIRTUE. 


4? 


there  are  prepared  for  as  rewards  and  punishments,  of  all  possible 
degrees,  from  the  must  exalted  happiness  down  to  extreme  misery  ; 
so  that  '•  our  labour  is  never  in  vain;''  whatever  advancement  we 
make  in  virtue,  we  procure  a  proportionable  accession  of  fu- 
ture happiness  ;  as,  on  lhe  other  hand,  every  accumulation  of  vice 
is  the  '( treasuring  up  of  so  much  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath.'* 
It  has  been  said,  that  it  can  never  be  a  just  economy  of  Provi- 
dence, to  admit  one  part  of  mankind  into  heaven,  and  condemn 
the  other  to  hell,  since  there  must  be  very  little  to  choose,  between 
the  worst  man  who  is  received  into  heaven,  and  the  best  who  is 
excluded.  And  how  know  we,  it  might  be  answered,  but  that 
there  may  be  as  little  to  choose  in  their  conditions  ? 

Without  entering  into  a  detail  of  Scripture  morality,  which 
would  anticipate  our  subject,  the  following  general  positions  may 
be  advanced,  1  think,  with  safety. 

1.  That  a  state  of  happiness  is  not  to  be  expected  by  those 
who  are  conscious  of  no  moral  or  religious  rule.  I  mean  those 
who  cannot  with  truth  say,  that  they  have  been  prompted  to  one 
action,  or  withhoMerr  from  one  gratification,  by  any  regard  to 
virtue  or  religion,  either  immediate  or  habitual. 

There  needs  no  other  proof  of  this,  than  the  consideration, 
that  a  brute  would  be  as  proper  an  object  of  reward  as  such  a  man, 
and  that,  if  the  case  were  so,  the  penal  sanctions  of  religion  could 
have  no  place.  For  whom  would  you  punish,  if  you  make  such 
a  one  as  this  happy  ? — or  rather  indeed  religion  itself,  both  nat- 
ural and  revealed,  would  cease  to  have  either  use  or  authority. 

2.  That  a  state  of  happiness  is  not  to  be  expected  by  those, 
who  reserve  to  themselves  the  habitual  practice  of  any  one  sin, 
or  neglect  of  one  known  duty. 

Because  no  obedience  can  proceed  upon  proper  motives,  which 
is  not  universal,  that  is  which  is  not  directed  to  every  command 
of  God  alike,  as  they  all  stand  upon  the  same  authority. 

according  to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes  ;  but  he  that  knew 
not,  shall  be  beaten  with  fewstripes."  Luke  xii.  47,  48 — "  Whosoever  shall 
Vive  you  a  cup  of  water  to  drink  in  my  name,  because  ye  belong  to  Christ, 
vei  ily  I  say  unto  you  he  shall  not  lose  his  reward  ;"  to  wit,  intimating  that 
there  is  in  reserve  a  proportionable  reward  for  even  the  smallest  act  of  virtue. 
Mark  ix.  41.— See-also  the  parable  of  the  pounds,  Luke  xix.  16,  &c.  where  he 
whose  pound  had  gained  ten  pounds,  was  placed  over  ten  cities ;  and  he 
whose  pound  had  gained  fire  pounds,  was  placed  over  five  cities. 


4,8  VIRTUE. 

Because  such  an  allowance  would  in  effect  amount  to  a  lolera*> 
tion  of  every  vice  in  the  world. 

And  because,  the  strain  of  scripture  language  excludes  any 
such  hope.  When  our  duties  are  recited,  they  are  put  collectively, 
that  is,  as  all  and  every  of  them  required  in  the  Christian  char- 
acter. "Add  to  your  faith  virtue,  and  to  virtue  knowledge,  and 
to  knowledge  temperance,  and  to  temperance  patience,  and  to  pa- 
tience godliness,  and  to  godliness  brotherly  kindness,  and  to  broth- 
erly kindness  charity.''*  On  the  other  hand,  when  vices  are 
enumerated,  they  are  put  disjunctively,  that  is,  as  separately  and 
severally  excluding  the  sinner  from  heaven.  "  Neither  fornica- 
tors, nor  idolaters,  nor  adulturers.  nor  effeminate,  nor  abusers  of 
themselves  with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunk- 
ards, nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. "f 

Those  texts  of  scripture,  which  seem  to  lean  a  contrary  way, 
as  that  "  charity  shall  cover  the  multitude  of  sins  ;"f  that  "  he 
which  converteth  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way  shall  hide  a 
multitude  of  sins  :"§  cannot,  I  think,  for  (he  reasons  above  men- 
tioned, be  extended  to  sins  deliberately,  habitually,  and  obstinate- 
ly persisted  in. 

3.  That  a  state  of  mere  unprofitableness  will  not  go  unpun- 
ished. 

This  is  expressly  laid  down  by  Christ,  in  the  parable  of  the 
talents,  which  supersedes  all  further  reasoning  upon  the  subject. 
"  Then  he  which  had  received  one  talent,  came  and  said,  Lord, 
I  know  thee  that  ihou  art  an  austere  man,  reaping  where  thou 
hast  not  sown,  and  gathering  where  thou  hast  not  slrawed  ;  and 
I  was  afraid,  and  hid  thy  talent  in  the  earth  :  lo,  there  thou  hast 
that  is  thine.  His  lord  answered  and  said  unto  him,  Thou  wick- 
ed and  slothful  servant,  thou  knewest  (or  knewest  thou  ?)  that  I 
reap  where  I  sowed  not,  and  gather  where  I  have  not  strawed  ; 
thou  onghtest  therefore  to  have  put  my  money  to  the  exchangers, 
and  then  at  my  coming  I  should  have  received  mine  own  with 
usury.  Take  therefore  the  talent  from  him,  and  give  it  unto  him 
which  hath  ten  talents  ;  for  unto  every  one  that  hath  shall  be 
given,  and  he  shall  have  abundance  ;  but  from  him  that  hath 
not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath  ;  and  cast  ye  the 

*  2  Pet,  i.  5,  6,7.        f  1  Cor.  vi.  9,  10.        *  1  Pet.  iv.  8.        §  James  v.  20. 


VIRTUE.  49 

unprofitable  servant  into  outer  darkness,  there  shall  be  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth."* 

III.  In  every  question  of  conduct,  where  one  side  is  doubtful, 
and  the  other  side  safe,  we  are  bound  to  take  the  safe  side. 

This  is  best  explained  by  an  instance ;  and  I  know  of  none 
more  to  our  purpose  than  that  of  suicide.  Suppose,  for  example's 
sake,  that  it  appear  doubtful  to  a  reasoner  upon  the  subject, 
whether  he  may  lawfully  destroy  himself.  He  can  have  no  doubt, 
but  that  it  is  lawful  for  him  to  let  it  alone.  Here  therefore  is  a 
case  in  which  one  side  is  doubtful,  and  the  other  side  safe.  By 
virtue  therefore  of  our  rule,  he  is  bound  to  pursue  the  safe  side, 
that  is,  to  forbear  from  offering  violence  to  himself,  whilst  a 
doubt  remains  upon  his  mind  concerning  the  lawfulness  of  sui- 
cide. 

It  is  prudent,  you  allow,  to  take  the  safe  side.  But  our  obser- 
vation means  something  more.  We  assert  that  the  action,  con- 
cerning which  we  doubt,  whatever  it  may  be  in  itself,  or  to  an- 
other, would,  in  us,  whilst  this  doubt  remains  upon  our  minds,  be 
certainly  sinful.  The  case  is  expressly  so  adjudged  by  St.  Paul, 
with  whose  authority  we  will  for  the  present  rest  contented.  "  I 
know  and  am  persuaded  by  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  there  is  nothing 
unclean  of  itself,  but  to  him  that  esteemeth  any  thing  to  be  unclean, 
to  him  it  is  unclean. — Happy  is  he  that  condemneth  not  himself 
in  that  thing  which  he  alloweth  ;  and  he  that  doubteth  is  damn- 
ed (condemned)  if  he  eat,  for  whatsoever  is  not  of  faith  (i.  e.  not 
done  with  a  full  persuasion  of  the  lawfulness  of  it)  is  sin.,yt 

*  Matt.  xxv.  24,  &c.        f  Romans  xiv.  14,  22,  23. 


\ 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

BOOK  II. 

MORAL  OBLIGATION. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE    QUESTION,    WHY  AM  I  OBLIGED   TO   KEEP    MY  WORD  ? 
CONSIDERED. 

WHY  am  I  obliged  to  keep  my  word  ? 

Because  it  is  right,  says  one. — Because  it  is  agreeable  to  the 
fitness  of  things,  says  another. — Because  it  is  conformable  to  rea- 
son and  nature,  says  a  third. — Because  it  is  conformable  to  truth, 
says  a  fourth — Because  it  promotes  the  public  good,  says  a 
fifth. — Because  it  is  required  by  the  will  of  God,  concludes  a 
sixth. 

Upon  which  different  accounts,  two  things  are  observable  : 

First,  That  they  all  ultimately  coincide. 

The  fitness  of  things,  means  their  fitness  to  produce  happiness  : 
the  nature  of  things,  means  that  actual  constitution  of  the  world, 
by  which  some  things,  as  such  and  such  actions,  for  example, 
produce  happiness,  and  others  misery  :  reason  is  the  principle, 
hy  which  we  discover  or  judge  of  this  constitution  :  truth  is  this 
judgment  expressed  or  drawn  out  into  propositions.  So  that  it 
necessarily  comes  to  pass,  that  what  promotes  the  public  happi- 
ness, or  happiness  on  the  whole,  is  agreeable  to  the  fitness  of 
things,  to  nature,  to  reason,  and  to  truth  :  and  such  (as  will  ap- 
pear by-and-by)  is  the  divine  character,  that  what  promotes  the 
general  happiness,  is  required  by  the  will  of  God  ;  and  what  has 
all  the  above  properties,  must  needs  he  right ;  for  right  means 


t 


MORAL  OBLIGATION.  5£ 

no  more  than  conformity  to  the  rule  we  go  by,  whatever  that 
rule  be. 

Aud  this  is  the  reason  that  moralists,  from  whatever  different 
principles  they  set  out,  commonly  meet  in  their  conclusions  ;  that 
is,  they  enjoin  the  same  conduct,  prescribe  the  same  rules  of 
duty,  and,  with  a  few  exceptions,  deliver  upon  dubious  cases  the 
same  determinations. 

Secondly,  It  is  to  be  observed,  that  these  answers  all  leave  the 
matter  short ;  for  the  inquirer  may  turn  round  upon  his  teacher 
with  a  second  question,  in  which  he  will  expect  to  be  satisfied, 
namely,  why  am  I  obliged  to  do  what  is  right ;  to  act  agreeably 
to  the  fitness  of  things  ;  to  conform  to  reason,  nature,  or  truth; 
to  promote  the  public  good,  or  to  obey  the  will  of  God  ? 

The  proper  method  of  conducting  the  inquiry  is,  first,  to  ex- 
amine what  we  mean,  when  we  say  a  man  is  obliged  to  do  any 
thing,  and  then,  to  shew  why  he  is  obliged  to  do  the  thing  which 
we  have  proposed  as  an  example,  namely  "  to  keep  his  word," 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHAT  WE  MEAN  WHEN  WE  SAY  A  MAN  IS  OBLIGED  TO  DO 

A  THING. 

A  MAN  is  to  be  said  to  be  obliged,  "  when  he  is  urged  by  a 
violent  motive  resulting  from  the  command  of  another." 

First,  "  The  motive  must  be  violent."  If  a  person,  who  has 
done  me  some  little  service,  or  has  a  small  place  in  his  disposal, 
ask  me  upon  some  occasion  for  my  vote,  I  may  possibly  give  it 
him,  from  a  motive  of  gratitude  or  expectation;  but  I  should 
hardly  say,  that  1  was  obliged  to  give  it  him,  because  the  induce- 
ment does  not  rise  high  enough-  Whereas  if  a  father  or  a  mas- 
ter, any  great  benefactor,  or  one  on  whom  my  fortune  depends, 
require  my  vote,  I  give  it  him  of  course  ;  and  mv  answer  to  all 
who  ask  me  why  1  voted  so  and  so,  is.  that  my  father  or  my  mas- 
ter obliged  me  ;  that  I  had  received  so  many  favours  from,  or  had 
so  great  a  dependence  upon  such  a  one,  that  I  was  obliged  to  vote 
as  he  directed  me. 

Secondly,  "'It  must  result  from  the  command  of  another." 
Offer  a  man  a  gratuity  for  doing  any  thing,  for  seizing,  for  ex? 


52  MORAL  OBLIGATION. 

ample,  an  offender,  he  is  not  obliged  by  your  offer  to  do  it ;  nor 
would  he  say  he  is ;  though  he  may  be  induced,  persuaded,  pre- 
vailed upon,  tempted.  If  a  magistrate  or  the  man's  immediate 
superior  command  it,  he  considers  himself  as  obliged  to  comply, 
though  possibly  he  would  lose  less  by  a  refusal  in  this  case,  than 
in  the  former. 

I  will  not  undertake  to  say  that  the  words  obligation  and  oblig- 
ed are  used  uniformly  in  tbis  sense,  or  always  with  this  distinc- 
tion ;  nor  is  it  possible  to  tie  down  popular  phrases  to  any  con- 
stant signification  :  but  wherever  the  motive  is  violent  enough, 
and  coupled  with  the  idea  of  command,  authority,  law,  or  the 
will  of  a  superior,  there,  I  take  it,  we  always  reckon  ourselves  to 
he  obliged. 

And  from  this  account  of  obligation  it  follows,  that  we  can  be 
obliged  to  nothing,  but  what  we  ourselves  are  to  gain  or  lose 
something  by  ;  for  nothing  else  can  be  a  "  violent  motive"  to  us. 
As  we  should  not  be  obliged  to  obey  the  laws,  or  the  magistrate, 
unless  rewards  or  punishments,  pleasure  or  pain,  some  how  or 
other,  depended  upon  our  obedience  ;  so  neither  should  we,  with- 
out the  same  reason,  be  obliged  to  do  what  is  right,  to  practise 
Tirtue,  or  to  obey  the  commands  of  God. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  QUESTION,  WHY  AM  I  OBLIGED  TO  KEEP  MY  WORD 
RESUMED. 

LET  it  be  remembered,  that  to  be  obliged,  "  is  to  be  urged  by 
a  violent  motive,  resulting  from  the  command  of  another." 

And  then  let  it  be  asked,  Why  am  I  obliged  to  keep  my  word  r 
and  the  answer  will  be,  Because  I  am  "  urged  to  do  so  by  a  violent 
motive''  (namely,  the  expectation  of  being  after  this  life  reward- 
ed, if  I  do,  or  punished  for  it,  if  I  do  not)  "resulting  from  the 
command  of  another"  (namely,  of  God.) 

This  solution  goes  to  the  bottom  of  the  subject,  as  no  further 
question  can  reasonably  be  asked. 

Therefore,  private  happiness  is  our  motive,  and  the  will  of  God 
our  rule. 


MORAL  OBLIGATION.  53 

When  I  first  turned  my  thoughts  to  moral  speculations,  an  air 
of  mystery  seemed  to  hang  over  the  whole  subject;  which  arose, 
I  believe,  from  hence — that  I  supposed,  with  many  authors  whom 
I  had  read,  that  to  be  obliged  to  do  a  thing,  was  very  different 
from  being  induced  only  to  do  it ;  and  that  the  obligation  to  prac- 
tise virtue,  to  do  what  is  right,  just,  &c.  was  quite  another  thing, 
and  of  another  kind,  lhan  the  obligation  which  a  soldier  is  under 
to  obey  his  officer,  a  servant  his  master;  or  any  of  the  civil  and 
ordinary  obligations  of  human  life.  Whereas,  from  what  has 
been  said  it  appears,  that  moral  obligation  is  like  all  other  obliga- 
tions; and  that  obligation  is  nothing  more  than  an  inducement  of 
sufficient  strength,  and  resulting,  in  some  way,  from  the  command 
of  another. 

There  is  always  understood  to  be  a  difference  between  an  act 
of  prudence  and  an  act  of  duty.  Thus,  if  I  distrust  a  man  who 
owed  me  a  sum  of  money,  I  should  reckon  it  an  act  of  prudence 
to  get  another  person  bound  with  him;  but  I  should  hardly  call 
it  an  act  of  duty.  On  the  other  hand,  it  would  be  thought  a  very 
unusual  and  loose  kind  of  language  to  say,  that,  as  1  had  made 
such  a  promise,  it  was  prudent  to  perform  it ;  or  that  as  my  friend 
when  he  went  abroad,  placed  a  box  of. jewels  in  my  hands,  it 
would  he  prudent  in  me  to  preserve  it  for  him  till  he  returned. 

Now,  in  what,  you  will  ask,  does  the  difference  consist  ?  inas- 
much as,  according  to  our  account  of  the  matter,  both  in  the  one 
case  and  the  other,  in  acts  of  duty  as  well  as  acts  of  prudence, 
we  consider  solely  what  we  ourselves  shall  gain  or  lose  by  the 
act  ? 

The  difference,  and  the  only  difference,  is  this ;  that,  in  the 
one  case  we  consider  what  we  shall  gain  or  lose  in  the  present 
world;  in  the  other  ease,  we  consider  also  what  we  shall  gain  or 
lose  in  the  world  to  come. 

They  who  would  establish  a  system  of  morality,  independent. 
<;f  a  future  stnte,  must  look  out  for  some  different  idea  of  mora™ 
obligation  ;  unless  they  can  shew  that  virtue  conducts  the  posses- 
sor to  certain  happiness  in  this  life,  or  to  a  much  greater  share 
of  it  than  he  could  attain  by  a  different  behaviour.  Tons  there 
are  two  great  questions  : 

I.  Will  there  be  after  this  life  any  distribution  of  rewards  on:1: 
punishments  at  all? 


54i  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

II.  If  there  be,  what  actions  will  be  rewarded,  and  what  will- 
be  punished  ? 

The  first  question  comprises  the  credibility  of  the  Christian 
religion,  together  with  the  presumptive  proofs  of"  a  t'uinre  retri- 
bution from  the  light  of  nature.  The  second  question  comprise* 
the  province  of  morality.  Both  questions  are  too  much  for  one 
work.  The  affirmative  therefore  of  the  first,  although  we  confess 
that  it  is  the  foundation  upon  which  the  whole  fabrick  rests,  must 
fn  this  treatise  be  taken  for  granted. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  WILL  O^  GOD. 

AS  the  will  of  God  is  our  rule,  to  inquire  what  is  our  duty,  or 
what  we  are  obliged  to  do,  in  any  instance,  is,  in  effect,  to  inquire, 
what  is  the  will  of  God  in  that  instance?  which  consequently 
becomes  the  whole  business  ofmorality. 

Now  there  are  two  methods  of  coming  at  the  will  of  God  on 
any  point  : 

I.  By  his  express  declarations,  when  they  are  to  be  had,  and 
•which  must  be  sought  for  in  scripture. 

II.  By  what  we  can  discover  of  his  designs  and  dispositions 
Irom  his  works ;  or,  as  we  usually  call  it,  the  light  of  nature. 


Anb  here  we  may  observe  the  absurdity  of  separating  natural 
and  revealed  religion  from  each  other.  The  object  of  both  is  the 
same — to  discover  the  will  of  God — and,  provided  we  do  but  dis- 
cover it,  it  matters  nothing  by  what  means. 

An  ambassador,  judging  by  what  he  knows  of  his  sovereign's 
disposition,  and  arguing  from  what  he  has  observed  of  his  con- 
duct, or  is  acquainted  with  of  his  designs,  may  take  his  measures 
in  many  cases  with  safety,  and  presume  with  great  probability 
how  his  master  would  have  him  act  on  most  occasions  that  arise  : 
but  if  he  have  his  commission  and  instructions  in  his  pocket,  it 
would  be  strange  not  to  look  into  them.  He  will  be  directed  by 
both  rules:  when  his  instructions  are  clear  and  positive,  there  is 


THE  WILL  OF  GOD.  gjj 

aa  end  to  all  farther  deliberation  (unless  indeed  he  suspect  their 
authenticity):  where  his  instructions  are  silent  or  dubious,  he 
wiii  endeavour  to  supply  or  explain  them,  by  what  he  has  been 
mble  to  collect  from  other  quarters  of  his  master's  general  incli- 
nation or  intentions. 

Mr.  Home,  in  his  fourth  \ppendix  to  his  Principles  of  Morals, 
has  been  pleased  to  complain  of  the  modern  scheme  of  uniting 
Ethicks  with  the  Christian  Theology.  They  who  find  them- 
selves disposed  to  join  in  this  complaint  will  do  well  to  observe 
what  Mr.  Hume  himself  has  been  able  to  make  of  morality  with- 
out this  union.  And  for  that  purpose,  let  them  read  the  second 
part  of  the  ninth  section  of  the  above  essay  ;  which  part  contains 
the  practical  application  of  the  whole  treatise, — a  treatise,  which 
Mr.  Hume  declares  to  be  "  incomparably  the  best  he  ever  wrote." 
When  they  have  read  it  over,  let  them  consider,  whether  any  mo- 
tives there  proposed  are  likely  to  be  found  sufficient  to  withhold 
men  from  the  gratification  of  lust,  revenge,  envy,  ambition,  ava- 
rice ;  or  to  prevent  the  existence  of  these  passions.  Unless  they 
rise  up  from  this  celebrated  essay,  with  stronger  impressions  upon 
their  minds  than  it  ever  left  upon  mine,  they  will  acknowledge 
the  necessity  of  additional  sanctions.  But  the  necessity  of  these 
sanctions  is  not  now  the  question.  If  they  be  in  fact  established,  if 
the  rewards  and  punishments  held  forth  in  the  gospel  will  actu- 
ally eome  to  pass,  they  must  be  considered.  Such  as  reject  the 
Christian  religion  are  to  make  the  best  shift  they  can  to  build  up 
a  system,  and  lay  the  foundations  of  morality  without  it.  But  it 
appears  to  me  a  great  inconsistency  in  those  who  receive  Chris- 
tianity, and  expect  something  to  come  of  it,  to  endeavour  to  keep 
all  such  expectations  out  of  sight  in  their  reasonings  concerning 
human  duty. 


The  method  of  coming  at  the  will  of  God,  concerning  any  ac- 
tion, by  the  light  of  nature,  is  to  inquire  into  "  the  tendeney  of 
the  action  to  promote  or  diminish  the  general  happiness."  This 
rule  proceeds  upon  the  presumption,  that  God  Almighty  wills 
and  wishes  the  happiness  of  his  creatures ;  and,  consequently, 
that  those  actions,  which  promote  that  will  and  wish,  must  be 
agreeable  to  him  5  and  the  contrary. 


56  THE  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 

As  this  presumption  is  the  foundation  of  our  whole  system,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  explain  the  reasons  upon  which  it  rests. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 

WHEN  Gotl  created  the  human  species,  either  he  wished  their 
happiness,  or  he  wished  their  misery,  or  he  was  indifferent  and 
unconcerned  about  both. 

If  he  had  wished  our  misery,  he  might  have  made  sure  of  his 
purpose,  by  forming  our  senses  to  be  so  many  sores  and  pains  to 
us,  as  they  are  now  instruments  of  gratification  and  enjoyment; 
or  by  placing  us  amidst  objects  so  ill  suited  to  our  perceptions,  as 
to  have  continually  offended  us,  instead  of  ministering  to  our  re- 
freshment and  delight.  He  might  have  made,  for  example,  every 
thing  we  tasted  bitter:  every  thing  we  saw  loathsome;  every 
thing  we  touched  a  sting ;  every  smell  a  stench;  and  every  sound 
a  discord. 

If  he  had  been  iudifferent  about  our  happiness  or  misery,  we 
must  impute  to  our  good  fortune  (as  all  design  by  this  supposition 
is  excluded)  both  the  capacity  of  our  senses  to  receive  pleasure, 
and  the  supply  of  external  objects  fitted  to  produce  it. 

But  either  of  these  (and  still  more  both  of  them)  being  too 
much  to  be  attributed  to  accident,  nothing  remains  but  the  first 
supposition,  that  God,  when  he  created  the  human  species,  wished 
their  happiness;  and  made  for  them  the  provision  which  he  has 
made,  with  that  view,  and  for  that  purpose. 

The  same  argument  may  be  proposed  in  different  terms,  thus : 
Contrivance  proves  design  ;  and  the  predominant  tendency  of  the 
contrivance  indicates  the  disposition  of  the  designer.  The  world 
abounds  with  contrivances ;  and  all  the  contrivances  which  we 
are  acquainted  with,  are  directed  to  beneficial  purposes.  Evil, 
no  doubt,  exists;  but  is  never,  that  we  can  perceive,  the  object 
of  contrivance.  Teeth  are  contrived  to  eat,  not  to  ache ;  their 
aching  now  and  then  is  incidental  to  the  contrivance,  perhaps 
inseparable  from  it ;  or  even,  if  you  will,  let  it  be  called  a  defect 
in  the  contrivance ;  but  it  is  not  the  object  of  it.    This  is  a  dis- 


THE  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE^  Q$ 

tinetion  which  well  deserves  to  be  attended  to.  In  describing 
implements  of  husbandry,  you  would  hardly  say  of  the  sickle, 
that  it  is  made  to  cut  the  reaper's  fingers,  though,  from  the  con- 
struction of  the  instrument,  and  the  manner  of  using  it,  this  mis- 
chief often  happens.  But  if  you  had  occasion  to  describe  instru- 
ments of  torture  or  execution,  this  engine  you  would  say,  is  to 
extend  the  sinews  ;  this  to  dislocate  the  joints  ;  this  to  break  the 
hones ;  this  to  scorch  the  soles  of  the  feet.  Here  pain  and  misery 
are  the  very  objects  of  the  contrivance.  Now  nothing  of  this  sort 
is  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  nature.  We  never  discover  a  train 
of  contrivance  to  bring  about  au  evil  purpose.  No  anatomist  ever 
discovered  a  system  of  organization  calculated  to  produee  pain 
and  disease  ;  or.  in  explaining  the  parts  of  the  human  body,  ever 
said,  this  is  to  irritate  t,  this  to  inflame  ;  this  duct  is  to  convey 
the  gravel  to  the  kidneys  ;  this  gland  to  secrete  the  humour  which, 
forms  the  gout :  if  by  chance  he  come  at  a  part  of  which  he 
knows  not  the  use,  the  most  he  can  say  is,  that  it  is  useless ;  no 
one  ever  suspects  that  it  is  put  there  to  incommode,  to  annoy,  or 
to  torment.  Since  then  God  hath  called  forth  his  consummate 
wisdom  to  contrive  and  provide  for  our  happiness,  and  the  world 
appears  to  have  heen  constituted  with  this  design  at  first,  so  long 
as  this  constitution  is  upholden  by  him,  we  must  in  reason  sup- 
pose the  same  design  to  continue. 

The  contemplation  of  universal  nature  rather  bewilders  the 
mind  than  affects  it.  There  is  always  a  bright  spot  in  the  pros- 
pect upon  which  the  eye  rests;  a  single  example,  perhaps,  by 
which  each  man  finds  himself  more  convinced  than  by  all  others 
put  together.  I  seem,  for  my  own  part,  to  see  the  benevolence  of 
the  Deity  more  clearly  in  (he  pleasures  of  very  young  children, 
than  in  any  thing  in  the  world.  The  pleasures  of  grown  persons 
may  be  reckoned  partly  of  their  own  procuring ;  especially  if  there 
has  been  any  industry  or  contrivance,  or  pursuit,  to  come  at  them  ; 
or  if  they  are  founded,  like  music,  painting,  &c.  upon  any  qual- 
ification of  their  own  acquiring.  But  the  pleasures  of  a  healthy 
infant  are  so  manifestly  provided  for  it  by  another,  and  the  be- 
nevolence of  the  provision  is  so  unquestionable,  that  every  child  I 
see  at  its  sport  attbrds  to  my  mind  a  kind  of  sensible  evidence  of 
the  finger  of  God,  and  of  the  dispositiou  which  directs  it. 

But  the  example  which  strikes  each  man  most  strongly;  is  the 


■ 

58  UTILITY. 

true  example  for  him ;  and  hardly  two  minds  hit  upon  the  same ; 
which  shews  the  abundance  of  such  examples  about  us. 

We  conclude,  therefore,  that  God  wills  and  wishes  the  happi- 
ness of  his  creatures.  And  this  conclusion  being  once  established, 
we  are  at  liberty  to  go  on  with  the  rule  built  upon  it,  namely, 
"  that  the  method  of  coming  at  the  will  of  God,  concerning  any 
action  by  the  light  of  nature,  is  to  inquire  into  the  tendency  of 
that  action  to  promote  or  diminish  the  general  happiness." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

UTILITY. 

SO  then  actions  are  to  he  estimated  by  their  tendency.* — 
Whatever  is  expedient  is  right.  It  is  the  utility  of  any  moral 
rule  alone  which  constitutes  the  obligation  of  it. 

But  to  all  this  there  seems  a  plain  objection,  viz.  that  many 
actions  are  useful,  which  no  man  in  his  senses  will  allow  to  be 
right.  There  are  occasions,  in  which  the  hand  of  the  assassin 
would  be  very  useful.  The  present  possessor  of  some  great  estate 
employs  his  influence  and  fortune  to  annoy,  corrupt,  or  oppress 
all  about  him.  His  estate  would  devolve,  by  his  death,  to  a  suc- 
cessor of  an  opposite  character.  It  is  useful,  therefore,  to  dispatch 
such  a  one  as  soon  as  possible  out  of  the  way  ;  as  the  neighbour- 
hood will  exchange  thereby  a  pernicious  tyrant  for  a  wise  and 
and  generous  benefactor.  It  might  be  useful  to  rob  a  miser,  and 
give  the  money  to  the  poor;  as  the  money,  no  doubt,  would  pro- 
duce more  happiness,  by  being  laid  out  in  food  and  clothing  for 
half  a  dozen  distressed  families,  than  by  continuing  locked  up  in 
a  miser's  chest.     It  may  be  useful  to  get  possession  of  a  place,  a 

•  Actions  in  the  abstract  are  right  or  wrong,  according  to  their  tendency',- 
the  agent  is  virtuous  or  vicious,  according  to  his  design.  Thus,  if  the  ques- 
tion be,  Whether  relieving  common  beggars  be  right  or  wrong  ?  we  inquire 
into  the  tendency  of  such  a  conduct  to  the  public  advantage  or  inconvenience. 
If  the  question  be,  Whether  a  man  remarkable  for  this  sort  of  bounty  is  to  be 
esteemed  virtuous  for  that  reason  ?  we  inquire  into  his  design,  whether  his 
liberality  sprang  from  charity  or  from  ostentation?  It  is  evident  that  our 
consern  is  with  actions  in  the  abstract. 


UTILITY.  59 

piece  of  preferment,  or  of  a  seat  in  parliament,  by  bribery  or  false 
swearing ;  as  by  means  of  them  we  may  serve  the  public  more 
effectually  than  in  our  private  station.  What  then  shall  we  say  ? 
Must  we  admit  these  actions  to  be  right,  which  would  be  to  justify 
assassination,  plunder,  and  perjury  ;  or  must  we  give  up  our 
principle,  that  the  criterion  of  right  is  utility  ? 

It  is  not  necessary  to  do  either. 

The  true  answer  is  this  ;  that  these  actions,  after  all,  are  not 
useful,  and  for  that  reason,  and  that  alone,  are  not  right. 

To  see  this  point  perfectly,  it  must  be  observed  that  the  bad 
consequences  of  actions  are  twofold,  particular  and  general. 

The  particular  bad  consequence  of  an  action  is,  the  mischief 
which  that  single  action  directly  and  immediately  occasions. 

The  general  bad  consequence  is,  the  violation  of  some  neces- 
sary or  useful  general  rule. 

Thus,  the  particular  bad  consequence  of  the  assassination 
above  described,  is  the  fright  and  pain  which  the  deceased  un- 
derwent; the  loss  he  suffered  of  life,  which  is  as  valuable  to  a 
bad  man,  as  to  a  good  one,  or  more  so;  the  prejudice  and  afflic- 
tion, of  which  his  death  was  the  occasion,  to  his  family,  friends* 
and  dependants. 

The  general  bad  consequence  is  the  violation  of  this  necessary 
general  rule,  that  no  man  be  put  to  death  for  his  crimes,  but  by 
public  authority. 

Although,  therefore,  such  an  action  have  no  particular  bad 
consequences,  or  greater  particular  good  consequences,  yet  it  is 
not  useful,  by  reason  of  the  general  consequence,  which  is  of  more 
importance,  and  which  is  evil.  And  the  same  of  the  other  two 
instances,  and  of  a  million  more,  which  might  be  mentioned. 

But  as  this  solution  supposes,  that  the  moral  government  of  the 
world  must  proceed  by  general  rules,  it  remains  that  we  show  the 
necessity  of  this. 


*  ■& 


(5Q  THE  NECESSITY  OF  GENERAL  RULES- 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  NECESSITY  OF  GENERAL  RULES. 

YOU  cannot  permit  one  action  and  forbid  another,  without 
showing  a  difference  between  them.  Consequently  the  same  sort 
of  actions  must  be  generally  permitted  or  generally  forbidden. 
Where,  therefore,  the  general  permission  of  them  would  be  per- 
nicious, it  becomes  necessary  to  lay  down  and  support  the  rule 
which  generally  forbids  them. 

Thus,  to  return  once  more  to  the  case  of  the  assassin.  The 
assassin  knocked  the  rich  villian  on  the  head,  because  he  thought! 
him  better  out  of  the  way  than  in  it.  If  you  allow  this  excuse  in 
the  present  instance,  you  must  allow  it  to  all  who  act  in  the  same 
manner,  and  from  thejjame  motive;  that  is  you  must  allow  every 
man  to  kill  any  one  he  meets,  whom  he  thinks  noxious  or  use- 
less;  which  in  the  event  would  be  to  commit  every  man's  life 
and  safety  to  the  spleen,  fury,  and  fanaticism  of  his  neighbour; — . 
a  disposition  of  affairs  which  would  soon  fill  the  world  with  mis- 
ery and  confusion  ;  and  ere  long  put  an  end  to  human  society,  if 
not  to  the  human  species. 

The  necessity  of  general  rules  in  human  government  is  appar- 
ent :  but  whether  the  same  necessity  subsist  in  the  divine  economy, 
in  that  distribution  of  rewards  and  punishments  to  which  a  mor- 
alist looks  forward,  may  be  doubted. 

I  answer  that  general  rules  are  necessary  to  every  moral  gov- 
ernment ;  and  by  moral  government  I  mean  any  dispensation, 
whose  object  is  to  influence  the  conduct  of  reasonable  creatures. 

For  if,  of  two  actions  perfectly  similar,  one  be  punished,  and 
the  other  be  rewarded  or  forgiven,  which  is  the  consequence  of 
rejecting  general  rules,  the  subjects  of  such  a  dispensation  would 
no  longer  know,  either  what  to  expect  or  how  to  act.  Rewards 
and  punishments  would  cease  to  be  such — would  become  acci- 
dents. Like  the  stroke  of  a  thunderbolt,  or  the  discovery  of  a 
mine,  like  a  blank  or  a  benefit  ticket  in  a  lottery,  they  would  oc- 
casion pain  or  pleasure  when  they  happened ;  but,  following  in 
no  known  order,  from  any  particular  course  of  action,  they  could 
have  no  previous  influence  or  affect  upon  the  conduct. 

An  attention  to  general  rules,  therefore,  is  included  in  the 


THE  NECESSITY  OF  GENERAL  RULES.  61 

very  idea  of  reward  and  punishment.  Consequently  whatever 
reason  there  is  to  expect  future  reward  and  punishment  at  the 
hand  of  God,  there  is  the  same  reason  to  believe,  that  he  will 
proceed  in  the  distribution  of  it  by  general  rules. 


Before  we  prosecute  the  consideration  of  general  consequence* 
any  farther,  it  may  be  proper  to  anticipate  a  reflection,  which 
will  be  apt  enough  to  suggest  itself,  inxthe^progress  of  our  aigu- 
nient. 

As  the  general  consequence  of  an  action,  upon  which  so  much 
of  the  guilt  of  a  bad  action  depends,  consists  in  the  example, 
it  should  seem,  that  if  the  action  be  done  with  perfect  secrecy, 
so  as  to  furnish  no  bad  example,  that  part  of  the  guilt  drops 
off.  In  the  case  of  suicide,  for  instance,  if  a  man  can  so  manage 
matters,  as  to  take  away  his  own  life,  without  being  known  or 
suspected  to  have  done  so,  he  is  not  chargeable  with  any  mischief 
from  the  example ;  nor  does  his  punishment  seem  necessary,  in 
order  to  save  the  authority  of  any  general  rule. 

In  the  first  place,  those  who  reason  in  this  manner  do  not  ob- 
serve, that  they  are  setting  up  a  general  rule,  of  all  others  the 
least  to  be  endured ;  namely,  that  secrecy,  whenever  secrecy  is 
practicable,  will  justify  any  action. 

Were  such  a  rule  admitted,  for  instance,  in  (he  case  above  pro- 
duced, is  there  not  reason  to  fear  that  people  would  be  disappear- 
ing perpetually  ? 

In  the  next  place,  I  would  wish  them  to  be  well  satisfied  about 
the  points  proposed  in  the  following  queries  : 

1.  Whether  the  scriptures  do  not  teach  us  to  expect  that,  at 
the  general  judgment  of  the  world,  the  most  secret  actions  will 
be  brought  to  light  ?* 

2.  For  what  purpose  can  this  be,  but  to  make  them  the  objects 
of  reward  and  punishment? 

3.  Whether,  being  so  brought  to  light,  they  will  not  fall  under 

*  "  In  the  day  when  God  shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ'* 
Rom.  xi.  16. — "  Judge  nothing  before  the  time,  until  the  Lord  come,  who  will 
bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  darkness,  and  will  make  manifest  the  coua- 
sds  of  the  heart."    1  Cor.  iv.  5. 


gg  GENERAL  CONSEQUENCES  PURSUED 

the  operation  of  those  equal  and  impartial  rules,  by  which  $od 
will  deal  with  his  creatures  ? 

They  will  then  become  examples,  whatever  they  be  now;  and 
require  the  same  treatment  from  the  judge  and  governor  of  thft 
moral  world,  as  if  they  had  been  detected  from  the  firstt 


CHAPTERWHU. 

THE  CONSIDERATION  OF  GENERAL  CONSEQUENCES  PURSUED. 

THE  general  consequence  of^any-actioh  may  be  estimated,  by 
asking  what  would  be  the  consequence,  if  the  same  sort  of  actions 
were  generally  permitted. — But  suppose  they  were,  and  a  thousand 
such  actions  perpetrated  under  this  permission  ;  is  it  just  to  charge 
a  single  action  with  the  collected  guilt  and  mischief  of  the  whole 
thousand  ?  I  answer,  that  the  reason  for  prohibiting  and  punishing 
an  action  (and  this  reason  may  be  called  the  guilt  of  the  action, 
if  you  please)  will  always  be  in  proportion  to  the  whole  mischief 
that  would  arise  from  the  general  impunity  and  toleration  of 
actions  of  the  same  sort. 

"  Whatever  is  expedient  is  right."  But  then  it  must  be  expe- 
dient on  the  whole,  at  the  long  run,  in  all  its  effects  collateral  and 
remote,  as  well  as  in  those  which  are  immediate  and  direct;  as  it 
is  obvious,  that,  in  computing  consequences,  it  makes  no  difference 
In  what  way  or  at  what  distance  they  ensue. 

To  impress  this  doetrine  upon  the  minds  of  young  readers,  and 
to  teach  them  to  extend  their  views  beyond  the  immediate  mischief 
of  a  crime,  I  shall  here  subjoin  a  string  of  instances,  in  which  the 
particular  consequence  is  comparatively  insignificant ;  and  where 
the  malignity  of  the  crime,  and  the  severity  with  which  human 
laws  pursue  it,  is  almost  entirely  founded  upon  the  general  conse- 
quence. 

The  particular  consequence  of  coining  is,  the  loss  of  a  guinea? 
or  of  half  a  guinea,  to  the  person  who  receives  the  counterfeit 
money ;  the  general  consequence  (by  which  I  mean  the  conse- 
quence that  would  ensue,  if  the  same  practice  were  generally  per- 
mitted) is,  to  abolish  the  use  of  money. 

The  particular  consequence  of  forgery  is,  a  damage  of  twenty 


GENERAL  CONSEQUENCES  PURSUE©,        63 

or  thirty  pounds  to  the  man  who  accepts  the  forged  bill :   the  gen- 
eral consequence  is,  the  stoppage  of  paper  currency. 

The  particular  consequence  of  sheep-stealing,  or  horse-stealing, 
is,  a  loss  to  the  owner,  to  the  amount  of  the  value  of  the  sheep,  or 
horse  stolen :  the  general  consequence  is,  that  the  land  could  not  ha 
occupied,  nor  the  market  supplied  with  this  kind  of  stock. 

The  particular  consequence  of  breaking  into  a  house  empty  of 
inhabitants,  is,  the  loss  of  a  pair  of  silver  candlesticks,  or  a  few 
spoons ;  the  general  consequence  is,  that  nobody  could  leave  their 
house  empty. 

The  particular  consequence  of  smuggling  may  be  a  deduction 
from  the  national  fund,  too  minute  for  computation  :  the  general 
«onsequence  is,  the  destruction  of  one  entire  branch  of  public 
revenue  ;  a  proportionable  increase  of  the  burden  upon  other 
branches ;  and  the  ruin  of  all  fair  and  open  trade  in  the  article 
smuggled. 

The  particular  consequence  of  an  officer's  breaking  his  parole 
is,  the  loss  of  a  prisoner,  who  was  possibly  not  worth  keeping: 
the  general  consequence  is,  that  this  mitigation  of  captivity 
would  be  refused  to  all  others. 

And  what  proves  incontestably  the  superior  importance  of 
general  consequences  is,  that  crimes  are  the  same,  and  treated  in 
the  same  manner,  though  the  particular  consequence  be  very  dif- 
ferent. The  ci'iine  and  fate  of  the  house-breaker  is  the  same, 
whether  his  booty  be  five  pounds  or  fifty.  And  the  reason  is,  that 
the  general  sonsequence  is  the  same. 

The  want  of  this  distinction  between  particular  and  general 
consequences,  or  rather  the  not  sufficiently  attending  to  the  latter, 
is  the  cause  of  that  perplexity  which  we  meet  with  in  ancient 
moralists.  On  the  one  hand,  they  were  sensible  of  the  absurdity 
of  pronouncing  actions  good  or  evil,  without  regard  to  the  good  or 
evil  they  produced.  On  the  other  hand,  they  were  startled  at  the 
conclusions  to  which  a  steady  adherence  to  consequences  seemed 
sometimes  to  conduct  them.  To  relieve  this  difficulty,  they  con- 
trived the  to  7rg£7rov  or  the  honestum,  by  which  terms  they  meant 
to  constitute  a  measure  of  right,  distinct  from  utility.  Whilst 
the  utile  served  them,  that  is,  whilst  it  corresponded  with  their 
habitual  notions  of  the  rectitude  of  actions,  they  went  by  it. 
"When  they  fell  in  with  such  cases  as  those  mentioned  in  the  sixth 
chapter,  they  took  leave  ef  their  guide,  and  resorted  to  the 


:  a 


Q%  OP  RIGHT. 

konestum.  The  only  account  they  could  give  of  the  matter  was, 
that  these  actions  might  be  useful :  but,  because  they  were  not  at 
the  same  time  honesta,  they  were  by  no  means  to  be  deemed  just 
or  right. 

From  the  principles  delivered  in  this  and  the  two  preceding 
chapters,  a  maxim  may  be  explained,  which  is  in  every  man's 
mouth,  and  in  most  men's  wilhnut  meaning,  viz.  "  not  to  do  evil, 
that  good  may  come  :"  that  is,  let  us  not  violate  a  general  rule, 
for  the  sake  of  any  particular  good  consequence  we  may  expect. 
Which  is  for  the  most  part  a  salutary  caution,  the  advantage  sel- 
dom compensating  for  the  violation  of  the  rule.  Strictly  speak- 
ing, that  cannot  be  '  evil,'  from  which  '  good  comes ;'  but  in  this 
way,  and  with  a  view  to  the  distinction  between  particular  aud 
general  consequences,  it  may. 

We  will  conclude  this  subject  of  consequences  with  the  follow- 
ing reflection.  A  man  may  imagine,  that  any  action  of  his,  with 
respect  to  the  public,  must  be  inconsiderable  :  so  also  is  the 
agent.  If  his  crime  produce  but  a  small  effect  upon  the  universal 
interest,  his  punishment  or  destruction  bears  a  small  proportion 
to  the  sum  of  happiness  and  misery  in  the  creation. 

y 

CHAPTER  IX. 

OF  RIGHT. 

RIGHT  and  obligation  are  reciprocal ;  that  is,  wherever  there 
is  a  right  in  one  person,  t,here  is  a  corresponding  obligation  upon 
others.  If  one  man  has  a  '  risht?  to  an. estate,  others  are  '  obliff- 
ed'  to  abstain  from  it  : — If  parents  have  a  '  right'  to  reverence 
from  their  children,  children  are  '  obliged'  to  reverence  their 
parents  ;  and  so  in  all  other  instances. 

Now,  because  moral  obligation  depends,  as  we  have  seen,  upon 
the  will  of  God,  right,  which  is  correlative  to  it,  must  depend 
upon  the  same.  Right  therefore  signifies,  consistency  with  the 
will  of  God. 

But  if  the  divine  will  determine  the  distinction  of  right  and 
wrong,  what  else  is  it  but  an  identical  .proposition,  to  say  of  God, 
that  he  acts  right  ?  or  how  is  it  possible  to  conceive  even,  that 


/ 


OF  RIGHT.  0g 

he  should  act  wrong  ?  Yet  these  assertions  are  intelligible  and 
significant.  The  case  is  this  :  By  virtue  of  the  two  principles, 
that  God  wills  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  and  that  the  will  of 
God  is  the  measure  of  right  and  wrong,  we  arrive  at  certain  con- 
clusions ;  which  conclusions  become  rules  ;  and  we  soon  learn  to 
pronounce  actions  right  or  wrong,  according  as  they  agree  or  dis- 
agree with  our  rules,  without  looking  any  further  :  and  when  the 
habit  is  once  established  of  stopping  at  the  rules,  we  can  go  back 
and  eompare  with  these  rules  even  the  divine  conduct  itself;  and 
yet  it  may  be  true  (only  not  observed  by  us  at  the  time)  that  the 
rules  themselves  are  deduced  from  the  divine  will. 

Right  is  a  quality  of  persons  or  of  actions. 

Of  persons  ;  as  when  we  say,  such  a  one  has  a  *  right'  to  this 
estate:  parents  have  a  'right'  to  reverence  from  their  children; 
the  king  to  allegiance  from  his  subjects  ;  masters  have  a  i  right' 
to  their  servants'1  labour  ;  a  man  has  not  a  'jrisfei'  over  l"s  own 
life. 

Of  actions  ;  as  in  such  expressions  as  the  following :  it  is 
*  right'  to  punish  murder  with  death  ;  his  behaviour  on  that  oc- 
casion was  '  right;'  it  is  not  '  right'  to  send  an  unfortunate  debtor 
to  jail  ;  he  did  or  acted  '  right,'  who  gave  up  his  place,  rather 
than  vote  against  his  judgment. 

In  this  latter  set  of  expressions,  you  may  substitute  the  defini- 
tion of  right  above  given  for  the  term  itself,  v.  g,  it  is  *  consistent 
with  the  will  of  God'  to  punish  murder  with  death; — his  be- 
haviour on  that  occasion  was  '  consistent  .With  the  will  of  God  ;'— 
it  is  not  *  consistent  with  the  will  of  God\  to  send  an  unfortunate 
debtor  to  jail ; — he  did,  or  acted,  '  consistently  with  the  will  of 
God,'  who  gave  up  his  place  rather  than  vote\  against  his  judgment. 

In  the  former  set,  you  must  vary  the  construction  a  little,  when 
you  introduce  the  definition  instead  of  the  term.  Such  a  one  has 
a  '  right'  to  this  estate,  that  is,  it  is  '  consistent  with  the  will  of 
God,'  that  such  a  one  should  have  it ; — parents  have  a  '  right5  to 
reverence  from  their  children,  that  is,  it  is  '  consistent  with  the 
will  of  God,'  that  children  should  reverence  their  parents;  and 
the  same  of  the  rest.  Y 


65  THE  DIVISION  OF  RIGHTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  DIVISION  OF  RIGHTS. 

RIGHTS,  when  applied  to  persons,  are 

Natural  or  adventitious. 

Alienable  or  unalienable. 

Perfect  or  imperfect. 

I.  Rights  are  natural  or  adventitious. 

Natural  rights  are  such  as  would  belong  to  a  man,  although 
there  subsisted  in  the  world  no  civil  government  whatever. 

Adventitious  rights  are  such  as  would  not. 

Natural  rights  are,  a  man's  right  to  his  life^  limbs,  and  liberty  ; 
his  right  to  the  produce  of  his  personal  labour ;  to  the  use,  in 
common  with  others,  of  air,  light,  water.  If  a  thousand  different 
persons  from  a  thousand  different  corners  of  the  world,  were  cast 
together  upon  a  desert  island,  they  would  from  the  first  be  every 
one  entitled  to  these  rights. 

Adventitious  rights  are,  the  right  of  a  king  over  his  subjects  ; 
of  a  general  over  his  soldiers  ;  of  a  judge  over  the  life  and  liberty 
of  a  prisoner  ;  a  right  to  elect  or  appoint  magistrates,  to  impose 
taxes,  decide  disputes,  direct  the  descent  or  disposition  of  prop- 
erty; a  right,  in  a  word,  in  any  one  man,  or  particular  body  of 
men,  to  make  laws  and  regulations  for  the  rest  For  none  of 
these  rights  would  exist  in  a  newly  inhabited  island. 

And  here  it  will  be  asked,  how  adventitious  rights  are  created ; 
or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  how  any  new  rights  can  accrue  from 
the  establishment  of  civil  society ;  as  rights  of  all  kinds,  we  re- 
member depend  upon  the  will  of  God,  and  civil  society  is  but.  the 
ordinance  and  institution  of  man.  For  the  solution  of  this  diffi- 
culty, we  must  return  to  our  first  principles.  God  wills  the  hap- 
piness of  mankind,  and  the  existence  of  civil  society,  as  conducive 
to  that  happiness.  Consequently,  many  things,  which  are  useful 
for  the  support  of  civil  society  in  general,  or  for  the  conduct  and 
conversation  of  particular  societies  already  established,  are,  for 
that  reason,  "  consistent  with  the  will  of  God,"  or  "  right," 
which,  without  that  reason,  i.  e.  without  the  establishment  of 
civil  society,  would  not  have  been  so. 
From  whence  also  it  appears,  that  adventitious  rights,  though 


THE  DIVISION  OF  RIGHTS.  67 

immediately  derived  from  human  appointment,  are  not,  for  that 
reason,  less  sacred  than  natural  rights,  nor  the  obligation  to  re* 
spect  them  less  cogent.  They  both  ultimately  rely  upon  the 
same  authority,  the  will  of  God.  Such  a  man  claims  a  right  to  a 
particular  estate.  He  can  shew,  it  is  true,  nothing  for  his  right, 
but  a  rule  of  the  civil  community  to  which  he  belongs;  and  this 
rule  may  be  arbitrary,  capricious,  and  absurd.  Notwithstanding 
ail  this,  there  would  be  the  same  sin  in  dispossessing  the  man  of 
his  estate  by  craft  or  violence,  as  if  it  had  been  assigned  to  him, 
like  the  partition  of  the  country  amongst  the  twelve  tribes,  by 
the  immediate  designation  and  appointment  of  Heaven. 

II.  Rights  are  alienable  or  unalienable. 
Which  terms  explain  themselves. 

The  right  we  have  to  most  of  those  things  which  we  call  prop- 
erty, as  houses,  lands,  money,  &c.  is  alienable. 

The  right  of  a  prince  over  his  people,  of  a  husband  over  his  wife, 
of  a  master  over  his  servant,  is  generally  and  naturally  unalienable. 

The  distinction  depends  upon  the  mode  of  acquiring  the  right. 
If  the  right  originate  from  a  contract,  and  be  limited  to  the  person 
by  the  express  terms  of  the  contract,  or  by  the  common  interpre- 
tation of  such  contracts,  (which  is  equivalent  to  an  express  stipu- 
lation,) or  by  a. personal  condition  annexed  to  the  right;  then  it 
is  unalienable.     In  all  other  cases  it  is  alienable. 

The  right  to  civil  liberty  is  alienable;  though  in  the  vehe- 
mence of  men's  zeal  for  it,  and  in  the  language  of  some  political 
remonstrances,  it  has  often  been  pronounced  to  be  an  unalienable 
right.  The  true  reason  why  mankind  hold  in  detestation  the 
memory  of  those  who  have  sold  their  liberty  to  a  tyrant,  is,  that, 
together  with  their  own,  they  sold  commonly,  or  endangered,  the 
liberty  of  others;  which  certainly  they  had  no  right  to  dispose  of, 

III.  Rights  are  perfect  or  imperfect. 

Perfect  rights  may  be  asserted  by  force,  or,  what  in  civil  society 
comes  into  the  place  of  private  force,  by  course  of  law. 

Imperfect  rights  may  not. 

Examples  of  perfect  rights.  A  man's  right  to  his  life,  person, 
house ;  for,  if  these  be  attacked,  he  may  repel  the  attack  by  in- 
stant violence,  or  punish  the  aggressor  by  law :  a  man's  right  to 
his  estate,  furniture,  clothes,  money,  and  to  all  ordinary  articles 
of  property  ;  for,  if  they  be  injuriously  taken  from  him,  he  may 
compel  the  author  of  the  injury  to  make  restitution  or  satisfaction. 


68  THE  DIVISION  OF  RIGHTS. 

Examples  of  imperfect  rights.  In  elections  or  appointments 
to  offices,  where  the  qualifications  are  prescribed,  the  best  quali 
fied  candidate  has  a  right  to  success ;  yet,  if  he  be  rejected,  he  has 
no  remedy.  He  can  neither  seize  the  office  by  force,  nor  obtain  re- 
dress at  law  ;  his  right  therefore  is  imperfect.  A  poor  neighbour 
has  a  right  to  relief;  yet,  if  it  be  refused  him,  he  must  not  extort 
it.  A  benefactor  has  a  right  to  returns  of  gratitude  from  the 
persou  he  has  obliged  ;  yet,  if  he  meet  with  none,  he  must 
acquiesce.  Children  have  a  right  to  affection  and  education  from 
iheir  parents  ;  and  parents,  on  their  part,  to  duty  and  reverence 
from  their  children;  yet,  if  these  rights  be  on  either  side  with- 
holden,  there  is  no  compulsion  by  which  they  can  be  enforced. 

It  may  be  at  first  view   difficult  to  apprehend  how  a  person 
should  have  a  right  to  a  thing,  and  yet  have  no  right  to  use  the 
means  necessary  to  obtain  it.     This  difficulty,  like  most  others  in 
morality,  is  resolvable  into  the  necessity  of  general  rules.     The 
reader  recollects,  that  a  person  is  said  to  have  a  "  right''  to  a 
thing,  when  it  is  "  consistent  with  the  will  of  God,"  that  he 
should  possess  it.     So  that  the  question  is  reduced  to  this  ;  How 
it  comes  to  pass,  that  it  should  be  consistent  with  the  will  of  God 
that  a  person  should  possess  a  thing,  and  yet  not  be  consistent 
with  the  same  will  that  he  should  use  force  to  obtain  it?     The 
answer  is,  that  by  reason  of  the  indeterminateness,  either  of  the 
object,  or  of  the  circumstances  of  the  right,  the  permission  of 
force  in  this  case  would  in  its  consequence,  lead  to  the  permission 
of  force  in  other  eases,  where  there  existed  no  right  at  all.     The 
candidate  above  described  has,  no  doubt,  a  right  to  success;  but 
Lis  right  depends  upon  his  qualifications,  for  instance,  upon  his 
comparative  virtue,  learning,  &c ;  there  must  be  somebody  there- 
fore to  compare  them.     The  existence,  degree,  and  respective 
importance  of  these  qualifications  are  all  indeterminate :  there 
must  be  somebody  therefore  to  determine  them.      To  allow  the 
candidate  to  demand  success  by  force,  is  to  make  him  the  judge 
of  his  own  qualifications.     You  cannot  do  this .  but  you  must  make 
all  other  candidates  the  same;  which  would  open  a  door  to  de- 
mands without  number,  reason,  or  right.     In  like  manner,  a  poor 
man  has  a  right  to  relief  from  the  rich ;  but  the  mode,  season, 
and  quantum  of  that  relief,  who  shall  contribute  to  it,  or  how 
much,  are  not  ascertained.    Yet  these  points  must  be  ascertained, 


Til?:  DIVISION  OF  RIGHTS.  (jg 

before  a  claim  to  relief  can  be  prosecuted  by  force.  For,  to  allow 
tbe  poor  to  ascertain  them  for  themselves,  would  be  to  expose 
property  to  so  many  of  these  claims,  that  it  would  lose  its  value, 
or  rather  its  nature,  that'is,  cease  indeed  to  be  property.  The 
same  observation  holds  of  all  other  cases  of  imperfect  rights  ;  not 
to  mention,  that  in  the  instances  of  gratitude,  affection,  reverence, 
and  the  like,  force  is  excluded  by  the  very  idea  of  the  duty,  which 
must  be  voluntary,  or  cannot  exist  at  all. 

Wherever  the  right  is  imperfect,  the  corresponding  obligation 
is  so  too.  1  am  obliged  to  prefer  the  best  candidate,  to  relieve 
the  poor,  be  grateful  to  my  benefactors,  take  care  of  my  children, 
and  reverence  my  parents ;  but  in  all  these  cases,  my  obligation, 
like  their  right,  is  imperfect. 

I  call  these  obligations  "  imperfect,"  in  conformity  to  the  es- 
tablished language  of  writers  upon  the  subject.  The  term,  how- 
ever, seems  ill  chosen  on  this  account,  that  it  leads  many  to 
imagine,  that  there  is  less  guilt  in  the  violation  of  an  imperfect 
obligation  than  of  a  perfect  one.  Which  is  a  groundless  notion. 
For  an  obligation  being  perfect  or  imperfect,  determines  only 
whether  violence  may  or  may  not  be  employed  to  enforce  it ;  and 
determines  nothing  else.  The  degree  of  guilt  incurred  by  violat- 
ing the  obligation  is  a  different  thing,  and  is  determined  by  cir- 
cumstances altogether  independent  of  this  distinction.  A  man 
who  by  a  partial,  prejudiced,  or  corrupt  vote,  disappoints  a  wor- 
thy candidate  of  a  station  in  life,  upon  which  his  hopes,  possibly, 
or  livelihood  depended,  and  who  thereby  grievously  discourages 
merit  and  emulation  in  others,  commits,  I  am  persuaded,  a  much 
greater  crime,  than  if  he  filched  a  book  out  of  a  library,  or  picked 
a  pocket  of  a  handkerchief;  though  in  the  one  case  he  violates 
only  an  imperfect  right,  in  the  other  a  perfect  one. 

As  positive  precepts  are  often  indeterminate  in  their  extent, 
and  as  the  indeterminateuess  of  an  obligation  is  that  which  makes 
it  imperfect ;  it  comes  to  pass,  that  positive  precepts  commonly 
produce  an  imperfect  obligation. 

Negative  precepts  or  prohibitions,  being  generally  precise, 
constitute  accordingly  perfect  obligations. 

The  fifth  commandment  is  positive,  and  the  duty  which  results 
from  it  is  imperfect. 

The  sixth  commandment  is  negative,  and  imposes  a  perfect 
obligation. 


70 


THE  GENERAL  RIGHTS  OF  MANKIND. 


Religion  and  virtue  find  their  principal  exercise  amongst  the 
imperfect  obligations;  the  laws  of  civil  society  taking  pretty 
good  eare  of  the  rest. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  GENERAL  RIGHTS  OF  MANKIND. 

BY  the  general  Rights  of  Mankind,  I  mean  the  rights  which 
belong  to  the  species  collectively ;  the  original  stock,  as  I  may 
say,  which  they  have  since  distributed  among  themselves. 

These  are, 

I.  A  right  to  the  fruits  or  vegetable  produee  of  the  earth. 
The  insensible  parts  of  the  creation  are  incapable  of  injury  ; 

and  it  is  nugatory  to  inquire  into  the  right,  where  the  use  can  be 
attended  with  no  injury.  But  it  may  be  worth  observing,  for  the 
sake  of  an  inference  which  will  appear  below,  that,  as  God  had 
ereated  us  with  a  want  and  desire  of  food,  and  provided  things 
suited  by  their  nature  to  sustain  and  satisfy  us,  we  may  fairly 
presume,  that  he  intended  we  should  apply  these  things  to  that 
purpose. 

II.  A  right  to  the  flesh  of  animals. 

This  is  a  very  different  claim  from  the  former.  Some  excuse 
seems  necessary  for  the  pain  and  loss  which  we  occasion  to  brutes, 
by  restraining  them  of  their  liberty,  mutilating  their  bodies,  and, 
at  last,  putting  an  end  to  their  lives  (which  we  suppose  to  be  the 
whole  of  their  existence,)  for  our  pleasure  or  conveniency. 

The  reasons  alleged  in  vindication  of  this  practice,  are  the 
following :  that  the  several  species  of  brutes  being  created  to  prey 
upon  one  another,  affords  a  kind  of  analogy  to  prove  that  the 
human  species  were  intended  to  feed  upon  them;  that,  if  let 
alone,  they  would  overrun  the  earth,  and  exclude  mankind  from 
the  occupation  of  it ;  that  they  are  requited  for  what  they  suffer 
at  our  hands,  by  our  care  and  protection. 

Upon  which  reasons  I  would  observe,  that  the  analogy  contended 
for  is  extremely  lame ;  since  brutes  have  no  power  to  support  life 
by  any  other  means,  and  since  we  have ;  for  the  whole  human 
species  might  subsist  entirely  upon  fruit,  pulse,  herbs,  and  roots, 
as  many  tribes  of  Hindoos  actually  do.  The  two  other  reasons 
may  be  valid  reasons,  as  far  as  they  go ;  Kf  ?  no  doubt,  if  man  had 

fevA 


THE  GENERAL  RIGHTS  OF  MANKIND. 


n 


been  supported  entirely  by  vegetable  food,  a  great  part  of  those 
animals  which  die  to  furnish  his  table,  would  never  have  lived  : 
but  they  by  no  means  justify  our  right  over  the  lives  of  brutes  to 
the  extent  in  which  we  exercise  it.  What  danger  is  there,  for 
instance,  of  fish  interfering  with  us,  in  the  occupation  of  their 
element?  Or  wbat  do  we  contribute  to  their  support  or  preser- 
vation ? 

It  seems  to  me,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  defend  this  right  by 
any  argument  which  the  light  and  order  of  nature  afford;  and 
that  we  are  beholden  for  it  to  the  permission  reeorded  in  Scrip- 
ture, Gen.  ix.  1,3,  3, :  "  And  God  blessed  Noah  and  his  sons,  and 
said  unto  them,  Be  fruitful,  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth ; 
and  the  fear  of  you,  and  the  dread  of  you,  shall  be  upon  every 
beast  of  the  earth,  and  upon  every  fowl  of  the  air,  and  upon  all 
that  moveth  upon  the  earth,  and  upon  all  the  fishes  of  the  sea ; 
into  your  hand  are  they  delivered  :  every  moving  thing  shall  be 
meat  for  you ;  even  as  the  green  herb,  have  I  given  you  all 
things."  To  Adam  and  his  posterity  had  been  granted  at  the 
creation,  "  every  green  herb  for  meat,"  and  nothing  more.  In 
the  last  clause  of  the  passage  now  produced,  the  old  grant  is 
recited,  and  extended  to  the  flesh  of  animals,  "  even  as  the  green 
herb,  have  I  given  you  all  things."  But  this  was  not  till  after 
the  flood ;  the  inhabitants  of  the  antediluvian  world  had  therefore 
no  such  permission,  that  we  know  of.  Whether  they  actually 
refrained  from  the  flesh  of  animals,  is  another  question.  Abel, 
we  read,  was  a  keeper  of  sheep ;  and  for  what  purpose  he  kept 
them,  exeept  for  food,  is  difficult  to  say  (unless  it  were  sacrifices) : 
might  not,  however,  some  of  the  stricter  sects  among  the  antedilu- 
vians be  scrupulous  as  to  this  point  P  and  might  not  Noah  and  his 
family  be  of  this  description  ?  for  it  is  not  probable  that  God 
would  publish  a  permission,  to  authorize  a  practice  which  had 
never  been  disputed. 

Wanton,  and,  what  is  worse,  studied  cruelty  to  brutes,  is  cer- 
tainly wrong,  as  coming  within  none  of  these  reasons. 


From  reason  then,  or  revelation,  or  from  both  together,  it 
appears  to  be  God  Almighty's  inteution,  that  the  productions  of 
the  earth  should  be  applied  to  the  sustentation  of  human  life. 


•"2 

4  ** 


THE  GENERAL  RIGHTS  OF  MANKIND. 


Consequently  all  waste  and  misapplication  of  these  productions, 
is  contrary  to  the  divine  intention  and  will;  and  therefore  wrong, 
for  the  same  reason  that  any  other  crime  is  so.  Such  as,  what  is 
related  of  William  the  Conqueror,  the  converting  of  twenty 
manors  into  a  forest  for  hunting,  or,  which  is  not  much  better, 
suffering  them  to  continue  in  that  state ;  or  the  letting  of  large 
tracts  of  land  lie  barren,  because  the  owner  cannot  cultivate  them, 
nor  will  part  with  them  to  those  who  can  ;  or  destroying,  or  suf- 
fering to  perish,  a  great  part  of  an  article  of  human  provision,  in 
order  to  enhance  the  price  of  the  remainder,  which  is  said  to  have 
been,  till  lately,  the  case  with  fish  caught  upon  the  English  coast ; 
or  diminishing  the  breed  of  animals,  by  a  wanton,  or  improvident 
consumption  of  the  young,  as  of  the  spawn  of  shell-fish,  or  the  fry 
of  salmon,  by  the  use  of  unlawful  nets,  or  at  improper  seasons  : 
to  this  head  may  also  be  referred,  what  is  the  same  evil  in  a 
smaller  way,  the  expending  of  human  food  on  superfluous  dogs  or 
horses  ;  and  lastly,  the  reducing  of  the  quantity,  in  order  to  alter 
the  quality,  and  to  alter  it  generally  for  the  worse  ;  as  the  dis- 
tillation of  spirits  from  bread-corn,  the  boiling  down  of  solid  meat 
for  sauces,  essences,  &c. 

This  seems  to  be  the  lesson  which  our  Saviour,  after  his  manner, 
inculcates,  when  he  bids  his  disciples  "  gather  up  the  fragments, 
that  nothing  be  lost."  And  it  opens,  indeed,  a  new  field  of  duty. 
Schemes  of  wealth  or  profit,  prompt  the  active  part  of  mankind 
to  cast  about  how  they  may  convert  their  property  to  the  most 
advantage:  and  their  own  advantage,  and  that  of  the  public, 
commonly" concur.  But  it  has  not  as  yet  entered  into  the  minds 
of  mankind,  to  reflect  that  it  is  a  duty,  to  add  what  we  can  to  the 
common  stock  of  provision,  by  extracting  out  of  our  estates  the 
most  they  will  yield  ;  or  that  it  is  any  sin  to  neglect  this. 

From  the  same  intention  of  God  Almighty,  we  also  deduce 
another  conclusion,  namely,  "  that  nothing  ought  to  be  made  ex- 
clusive property,  which  can  be  conveniently  enjoyed  in  common.5' 

It  is  the  general  intention  of  God  Almighty,  that  the  produce 
of  the  earth  be  applied  to  the  use  of  man.  This  appears  from 
the  constitution  of  nature,  or,  if  you  will,  from  his  express  declara- 
tion ;  and  this  is  all  that  appears  at  first.  Under  this  general 
donation,  one  man  has  the  same  right  as  another.  You  pluck  an 
apple  from  a  tree,  or  take  a  lamb  out  of  a  flock,  for  your  immedi- 
ate use  and  nourishment,  and  I  do  the  same ;  and  we  both  plead 


THE  GENERAL  RIGHTS  OF  MANKIND,  yg 

for  what  we  do,  the  general  intention  of  the  Supreme  Proprietor. 
So  far  ail  is  right;  but  you  cannot  claim  the  whole  tree,  or  the 
whole  flock,  and  exclude  me  from  any  share  of  them,  and  plead 
this  general  intention  for  what  you  do.  The  plea  will  not  serve 
you  :  you  must  show  something  more.  You  must  show,  by  pro- 
bable arguments,  at  least,  that  it  is  God's  intention,  that  these 
things  should  be  parcelled  out  to  individuals  ;  and  thai  the  estab- 
lished distribution,  under  which  you  claim,  should  be  upholden. 
Show  me  this,  and  I  am  satisfied.  But  until  this  be  shown,  the 
general  intention,  which  has  been  made  to  appear, and  which  is  all 
that  does  appear,  must  prevail ;  and,  under  that,  my  title  is  as 
good  as  yours.  Now  there  is  no  argument  to  induce  such  a  pre- 
sumption, but  one,  that  the  thing  cannot  be  enjoyed  at  all,  or 
enjoyed  with  the  same,  or  with  nearly  the  same  advantage,  while 
it  continues  in  common,  as  when  appropriated.  This  is  t;ue, 
where  there  is  not  enough  for  all,  or  where  the  article  in  ques- 
tion requires  care  or  labour  in  the  production  or  preservation  : 
but  where  no  such  reason  obtains,  and  the  thing  is  in  its  nature 
capable  of  being  enjoyed  by  as  many  as  will,  it  seems  an  arbitrary 
usurpation  upon  the  rights  of  mankind,  to  confine  the  use  of  it  to 
any. 

If  a  medicinal  spring  were  discovered  in  a  piece  of  ground 
which  was  private  property,  copious  enough  for  every  purpose  to 
which  it  could  be  applied,  I  would  award  a  compensation  to  the 
owner  of  the  field,  and  a  liberal  profit  to  the  author  of  the  dis- 
covery, especially,  if  he  had  bestowed  pains  or  expense  upon  the 
search ;  but  I  question,  whether  any  human  laws  would  he  justi- 
fied, or  would  justify  the  owner,  in  prohibiting  mankind  from  the 
use  of  the  water,  or  setting  such  a  price  upon  it,  as  would  almost 
amount  to  a  prohibition. 

If  there  be  fisheries,  which  are  inexhaustible ;  as  the  cod-fishery 
upon  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  and  the  herring-fishery  in  the 
British  seas  are  said  to  be;  then  all  those  conventions,  by  which, 
one  or  two  nations  claim  to  themselves,  and  guaranty  to  each 
other,  the  exclusive  enjoyment  of  these  fisheries,  are  so  many 
encroachments  upon  the  general  rights  of  mankiud. 

Upon  the  same  principle  may  be  determined  a  question,  which 

makes  a  great  figure  in  books  of  natural  law,  utrummare  sit  libe- 

rum  ?  that  is,  as  I  understand  it,  whether  the  exclusive  right  of 

navigating  particular  seas,  or  a  eentronl  ever  the  navigation  ©f 

10 


74 


THE  GENERAL  RIGHTS  OF  MANKIND. 


these  seas,  can  be  claimed,  consistently  with  the  law  of  nature, 
by  any  nation  ?  What  is  necessary  for  each  nation's  safety  we 
allow  ;  as  their  own*  bays,  creeks,  and  harbours,  the  sea  contigu- 
ous to,  that  is,  within  cannon  shot,  or  three  leagues  of  their  coast : 
and  upon  this  principle  of  safety  (if  upon  any  principle)  must  be 
defended,  the  claim  of  the  Venitian  state  to  the  Adriatic,  of  Den- 
mark to  the  Baitic  sea,  and  of  Great  Britain  to  the  seas  which 
invest  the  island.  But,  when  Spain  asserts  a  right  to  the  Pacific 
ocean,  or  Portugal  to  the  Indian  seas,  or  when  any  nation  extends 
its  pretensions  much  beyond  the  limits  of  its  own  territories,  they 
erect  a  claim,  which  interferes  with  the  benevolent  designs  of 
Providence,  and  which  no  human  authority  can  justify. 

III.  Another  right,  which  may  be  called  a  general  right,  as  it 
is  incidental  to  every  man  who  is  in  a  situation  to  claim  it,  is  the 
right  of  extreme  necessity :  by  which  is  meant,  a  right  to  use  or 
destroy  another's  property,  when  it  is  necessary  for  our  own  pre- 
servation to  do  so;  as  a  right  to  take,  without  or  against  the 
owner's  leave,  the  first  food,  clothes,  or  shelter  we  meet  with,  when 
we  are  in  danger  of  perishing  through  want  of  them;  a  right 
to  throw  goods  overboard,  to  save  the  ship ;  or  to  pull  down  a 
house,  in  order  to  stop  the  progress  of  a  fire ;  and  a  few  other 
instances  of  the  same  kind.  Of  which  right  the  foundation 
seems  to  be  this,  that,  when  property  was  first  instituted,  the  insti- 
tution was  not  intended  to  operate  to  the  destruction  of  any  :  there- 
fore, when  such  consequences  would  follow,  all  regard  to  it  is  su- 
perseded. Or  rather,  perhaps,  these  are  the  few  cases,  where  the 
particular  consequence  exceeds  the  general  consequence;  where 
the  remote  mischief  resulting  from  the  violation  of  the  general 
rule,  is  overbalanced  by  the  immediate  advantage. 

Restitution  however  is  due,  when  in  our  power;  because  the 
laws  of  property  are  to  be  adhered  to,  so  far  as  consists  with 
safety;  and  because  restitution,  which  is  one  of  those  laws,  sup- 
poses the  danger  to  be  over.  But  what  is  to  be  restored  ?  Not 
the  full  value  of  the  property  destroyed,  but  what  it  was  worth  at 
the  time  of  destroying  it,  which,  considering  the  danger  it  was  in 
of  perishiDg,  might  be  very  little. 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


RELATIVE  DUTIES. 
PART.  I. 

OF  RELATIVE  DUTIES  WHICH  ARE  DETERMINATE. 
CHAPTER  I. 

OF  PROPERTY. 

IF  you  should  see  a  flock  of  pigeons  in  a  field  of  corn ;  and  if 
(instead  of  each  picking  where,  and  what  it  liked,  taking  just  as 
much  as  it  wanted,  and  no  more)  you  should  see  ninety-nine  of  them 
gathering  all  they  got  into  a  heap ;  reserving  nothing  for  them- 
selves, but  the  chaff"  and  the  refuse  ;  keeping  this  heap  for  one 
and  that  the  weakest,  perhaps  worst  pigeon  of  the  flock ;  sitting 
round,  and  looking  on  all  the  winter,  whilst  this  one  was  devour- 
ing, throwing  about,  and  wasting  it ;  and,  if  a  pigeon  more  hardy 
or  hungry  than  the  rest,  touched  a  grain  of  the  hoard,  all  the 
others  instantly  flying  upon  it,  and  tearing  it  to  pieces  :  If  you 
should  see  this,  you  would  see  nothing  more  than  what  is  every 
day  practised  and  established  among  men.  Among  men  you  see 
the  ninety  and  nine,  toiling  and  scraping  together  a  heap  of  super- 
fluities for  one  ;  (and  this  one  too,  oftentimes  the  feeblest  and 
worst  of  the  whole  set,  a  child,  a  woman,  a  madman,  or  a  fool;) 
getting  nothing  for  themselves  all  the  while,  but  a  little  of  the 
coarsest  ©f  the  provision,  which  their  own  industry  produces ; 


f- 


y5  THE  USE  OP  THE  INSTITUTION  OF  PROPERTY. 

looking  quietly  on,  while  they  see  the  fruits  of  all  their  lahour 
spent  or  spoiled  ;  and  if  one  of  the  number  take  or  toueh  a  parti- 
cle of  the  hoard,  the  others  joining  against  him,  and  hanging 
him  for  the  theft. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  USE  OF  THE  INSTITUTION  OF  PROPERTY. 

THERE  must  be  some  very  important  advantages  to  account 
for  an  institution,  which  in  the  view  of  it  above  given  is  so  para- 
doxical and  unnatural. 

The  principal  of  these  advantages  are  the  following  : 

I.  It  increases  the  produce  of  the  earth. 

The  earth  in  climates  like  ours,  produces  little  without  culti- 
vation :  and  none  would  be  found  willing  to  cultivate  the  ground, 
if  ol  tiers  were  to  be  admitted  to  an  equal  share  of  the  produce. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  care  of  flocks  and  herds  of  tame 
animals. 

Crabs  and  acorns,  red  deer,  rabbits,  game,  and  fish,  are  all 
which  we  should  have  to  subsist  upon  in  this  country,  if  we  trust- 
ed to  the  spontaneous  productions  of  the  soil :  and  it  fares  not 
much  better  with  other  countries.  A  nation  of  North-American 
savages,  consisting  of  two  or  three  hundred,  will  take  up,  and  be 
half  starved  upon  a  tract  of  land,  which  in  Europe,  and  with 
European  management,  would  be  sufficient  for  the  maintenance  of 
as  many  thousands. 

] u  some  fertile  soils,  together  with  great  abundance  of  fish  upon 
their  coasts,  and  in  regions  where  clothes  are  unnecessary,  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  population  may  subsist  without  property  in 
land  ;  which  is  the  case  in  the  islands  of  Otaheite:  but  in  less 
favoured  situations,  as  in  the  country  of  New-Zealand,  though 
this  sort  of  properly  obtain  in  a  small  degree,  the  inhabitants, 
for  want  of  a  more  secure  and  regular  establishment  of  it,  are 
driven  oftentimes  by  the  scarcity  of  provision  to  devour  one 
another. 

II.  It  preserves  the  produce  of  the  earth  to  maturity. 


THE  USE  OF  THE  INSTITUTION  OP  PROPERTY.  iff 

We  may  judge  what  would  be  the  effects  of  a  community  of 
right  to  the  productions  of  the  earth,  from  the  trifling  specimens, 
which  we  see  of  it  at  present.  A  cherry-tree  in  a  hedge-row, 
nuts  in  a  wood,  the  grass  of  an  unstinted  pasture,  are  seldom  of 
much  advantage  to  any  body,  because  people  do  not  wait  for  the 
proper  season  of  reaping  them.  Corn,  if  any  were  sown  would 
never  ripen  j  lambs  and  calves  would  never  grow  up  to  sheep  and 
cows,  because  the  first  person  that  met  them  would  reflect,  that 
he  had  better  take  them  as  they  are,  than  leave  them  for  another. 

III.  It  prevents  contests. 

War  and  waste,  tumult  and  confusion,  must  be  unavoidable 
and  eternal,  where  there  is  not  enough  for  all,  and  where  therp 
are  no  rules  to  adjust  the  division. 

IV.  It  improves  the  conveniency  of  living. 

This  it  does  two  ways.  It  enables  mankind  to  divide  them- 
selves into  distioct  professions;  which  is  impossible,  unless  a 
man  can  exchange  the  productions  of  his  own  art  for  what  he 
wants  from  others ;  and  exchange  implies  property.  Much  of 
the  advantages  of  civilized  over  savage  life  depends  upon  this. 
When  a  man  is  from  necessity  his  own  tailor,  tentraaker,  carpen- 
ter, cook,  huntsman,  and  fisherman,  it  is  not  probable  that  he  will 
he  expert  at  any  of  his  callings.  Hence  the  rude  habitations,  fur- 
niture, clothing,  and  implements  of  savages ;  and  the  tedious 
length  of  time  which  all  their  operations  require. 

It  likewise  encourages  those  arts,  by  which  the  accommoda- 
tions of  human  life  are  supplied,  by  appropriating  to  the  artist 
the  benefit  of  his  discoveries  and  improvements  ;  without  which 
appropriation,  ingenuity  will  never  be  exerted  with  effect. 

Upon  ihese  several  accounts  we  may  venture,  with  a  few  ex- 
ceptions, to  pronounce,  that  even  the  poorest  and  the  worst  pro- 
vided, in  countries  where  property  and  the  consequences  of  prop- 
erty prevail,  are  in  a  better  situation,  with  respect  to  food,  rai- 
ment, houses,  and  what  are  called  the  necessaries  of  life,  than 
avy  arc  in  places  where  most  things  remain  iu  common. 

The  balance,  therefore,  upon  the  whole,  must  preponderate  in 
favour  of  property  with  a  manifest  and  great  excess. 

Inequality  of  property,  in  the  degree  in  which  it  exists  in  most 
countries  of  Europe,  abstractedly  considered,  is  an  evil :  but  it  is 
an  evil,  which  flows  from  those  rules  concerning  the  acquisition 
and  disposal  of  property,  by  which  men  are  incited  to  industry, 


78  THE  HISTORY  OF  PROPERTY. 

and  by  which  the  object  of  their  industry  is  rendered  secure  and 
valuable.  If  there  be  any  great  inequality  unconnected  with  this 
origin,  it  ought  to  be  corrected. 


CHAPTER  III.  >4 

THE  HISTORY  OF  PROPERTY. 

THE  first  objects  of  property  were  the  fruits  which  a  man 
gathered,  and  the  wild  animals  he  caught ;  next  to  these,  the 
tents  or  houses  which  he  built,  the  tools  he  made  use  of  to  catch 
or  prepare  his  food  ;  and  afterwards  weapons  of  war  and  offence. 
Many  of  the  savage  tribes  in  North-America,  have  advanced  no 
farther  than  this  yet;  for  they  are  said  to  reap  their  harvest, 
and  return  the  produce  of  their  market  with  foreigners,  into  the 
common  hoard  or  treasury  of  the  tribe.  Flocks  and  herds  of  tame 
animals  soon  became  property;  Abel,  the  second  from  Adam, 
was  a  keeper  of  sheep  ;  sheep  and  oxen,  camels  and  asses,  com- 
posed the  wealth  of  the  Jewish  patriarchs,  as  they  do  still  of  the 
modern  Arabs.  As  the  world  was  first  peopled  in  the  East, 
where  there  existed  a  great  scarcity  of  water,  wells  were  pro- 
bably next  made  property;  as  we  learn  from  the  frequent  and 
serious  mention  of  them  in  the  Old  Testament;  the  contentions 
and  treaties  about  them  ;*  and  from  its  being  recorded,  among  the 
most  memorable  achievements  of  very  eminent  men,  that  they 
dug  or  discovered  a  well.  Land,  which  is  now  so  important  a 
part  of  property,  which  alone  our  laws  call  real  property,  and 
regard  upon  all  occasions  with  such  peculiar  attention,  was  pro- 
bably not  made  property  in  any  country,  till  long  after  the  insti- 
tution of  many  other  species  of  property,  that  is,  till  the  country 
became  populous,  and  tillage  began  to  be  thought  of.  The  first 
partition  of  an  estate  which  we  read  of,  was  that  which  took 
place  between  Abram  and  Lot,  and  was  one  of  the  simplest 
imaginable  :  "  If  thou  wilt  take  the  left  hand,  then  I  will  go  to 
the  right ;  or  if  thou  depart  to  the  right  hand,  then  I  will  go  to 
the  left."    There  are  no  traces  of  property  in  land  in  Caesar's 

•  Gen.  xxi.  25.    xxvi.  18. 


PROPERTY  IN  LAND.  .  yg 

account  of  Britain;  little  of  it  in  the  history  of  the  Jewish  patri- 
archs ;  none  of  it  found  amongst  the  nations  of  North-America: 
the  Scythians  are  expressly  said  to  have  appropriated  their  cattle 
and  houses,  but  to  have  left  their  land  in  common. 

Property  in  immoveables  continued  at  first  no  longer  than  the 
occupation ;  that  is,  so  long  as  a  man's  family  continued  in  pos- 
session of  a  cave,  or  whilst  his  flocks  depastured  upon  a  neigh- 
bouring hill,  no  one  attempted,  or  thought  he  had  a  right,  to  dis- 
turb or  drive  them  out:  but  when  the  man  quitted  his  cave,  or 
changed  his  pasture,  the  first  who  found  them  unoccupied,  enter- 
ed upon  them,  by  the  same  title  as  his  predecessor's  ;  and  made 
way  in  his  turn,  for  any  one  that  happened  to  succeed  him.  All 
more  permanent  property  in  land,  was  probably  posterior  to  civil 
government  and  to  laws  ;  and  therefore  settled  by  these,  or  ac- 
cording to  the  will  of  the  reigning  ehief. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN  WHAT  THE  RIGHT  OP  PROPERTY  IS  FOUNDED. 

WE  now  speak  of  Property  in  Land  :  and  there  is  a  difficulty 
in  explaining  the  origin  of  this  property,  consistently  with  the 
law  of  nature  ;  for  the  land  was  once,  no  doubt,  common,  and  the 
question  is,  how  any  particular  part  of  it  could  justly  be  taken 
out  of  the  common,  and  so  appropriated  to  the  first  owner,  as  to 
give  him  a  better  right  to  it  than  others  ;  and,  what  is  more,  a 
right  to  exclude  all  others  from  it. 

Moralists  have  given  many  different  accounts  of  this  matter; 
which  diversity  alone,  perhaps,  is  a  proof  that  none  of  them  are 
satisfactory. 

One  tells  us  that  mankind,  when  they  suffered  a  particular  per- 
son to  occupy  a  piece  of  ground,  by  tacit  consent  relinquished 
their  right  to  it ;  and  as  the  piece  of  ground,  they  say,  belonged 
to  mankind,  collectively,  and  mankind  thus  gave  up  their  right 
to  the  first  peaceable  occupier,  it  thenceforward  became  his  prop- 
erty, and  no  one  afterwards  had  a  right  to  molest  him  in  it. 

Tke  objection  to  this  account  is,  that  consent  can  never  he 


£f}  PROPERTY  IN  LAND. 

• 
presumed  from  silence,  where  the  person  whose  conseut  is  re° 
quired  knows  nothing  about  the  matter;  which  must  have  been 
the  case  with  all  mankind,  except  the  neighbourhood  of  the  place 
where  the  appropriation  was  made.  And  to  suppose  that  the 
piece  of  ground  previously  belonged  to  the  neighbourhood,  and 
that  they  had  a  just  power  of  conferring  a  right  to  it  upon 
whom  they  pleased,  is  to  suppose  the  question  resolved,  and  a 
partition  of  land  to  have  already  taken  place. 

Another  says,  that  each  man's  limbs  and  labour  are  his  own 
exclusively  ;  that  by  occupying  a  piece  of  ground,  a  man  insepar- 
ably mixes  his  labour  with  it;  by  which  means  the  piece  of 
ground  becomes  thenceforward  his  own,  as  you  cannot  take  it 
from  him,  without  depriving  him  at  the  same  time  of  something 
which  is  indisputably  his. 

This  is  Mr.  Locke's  solution ;  and  seems  indeed  a  fair  reason, 
where  the  value  of  the  labour  bears  a  considerable  proportion  to 
the  value  of  the  thing;  or  where  the  thing  derives  its  chief  use 
and  value  from  the  labour.  Thus  game  and  fish,  though  they  be 
common,  whilst  at  large  in  the  woods,  or  water,  instantly  become 
the  property  of  the  person  that  catches  them  ;  because  an  animal, 
when  caught,  is  much  more  valuable  than  when  at  liberty  ;  and 
this  increase  of  value,  which  is  inseparable  from,  and  makes- a 
great  part  of  the  whole  value,  is  strictly  the  property  of  the 
fowler,  or  fisherman,  being  the  produce  of  his  personal  labour. 
For  the  same  reason,  wood  or  iron,  manufactured  into  uteusils, 
becomes  the  property  of  the  manufacturer  ;  because  the  value  of 
the  workmanship  far  exceeds  that  of  the  materials.  And  upon  a 
similar  principle,  a  parcel  of  unappropriated  ground,  which  a 
man  should  pare,  burn,  plough,  harrow,  and  sow,  for  the  produc- 
tion of  corn,  would  justlyjenough  be  thereby  made  his  own.  But 
this  will  hardly  hold,  in  the  manner  it  has  been  applied,  of  taking 
a  ceremonious  possession  of  a  tract  of  land,  as  navigators  do  of 
new-discovered  islands,  by  erecting  a  standard,  engraving  an  in- 
scription, or  publishing  a  proclamation  to  the  birds  and  beasts  ; 
or  of  turning  your  cattle  into  a  peice  of  ground,  setting  up  a  land- 
mark, digging  a  ditch,  or  planting  a  hedge  round  it.  Nor  will 
even  the  clearing,  manuring,  and  ploughing  of  a  field,  give  the 
first  occupier  a  right  to  it  in  perpetuity,  and  after  this  cultivation 
and  all  effects  of  it  are  ceased. 


PROPERTY  IN  LAND.  81 

Another,  and  in  ray  opinion  a  better,  account  of  the  first  right 
of  ownership,  is  the  following:  that,  as  God  has  provided  these 
things  for  the  use  of  all,  he  has  of  consequence  given  each  leave 
to  take  of  them  what  he  wants  :  by  virtue  therefore  of  this  leave, 
a  man  may  appropriate  what  he  stands  in  need  of  to  his  own 
use,  without  asking  or  waiting  for  the  consent  of  others  ;  in  like 
manner  as,  when  an  entertainment  is  provided  for  the  freeholders 
of  a  county,  each  freeholder  goes,  and  eats  and  drinks  what  he 
wants  or  chooses,  without  having  or  waiting  for  the  consent  of 
the  other  guests. 

But  then  this  reason  justifies  property,  as  far  as  necessaries 
alone,  or,  at  the  most,  as  far  as  a  competent  provision  for  our 
natural  exigencies.  For  in  the  entertainment  we  speak  of  (allow- 
ing the  comparison  to  hold  in  all  points,)  although  every  partic- 
ular freeholder  may  sit  down  and  eat  till  he  he  satisfied,  without 
any  other  leave  than  that  of  the  master  of  the  feast,  or  any  other 
proof  of  that  leave,  than  the  general  invitation,  or  the  manifest 
design  with  which  the  entertainment  is  provided  ;  yet  you  would 
hardly  permit  any  one  to  fill  his  pockets,  or  his  .wallet,  or  to  carry 
away  with  him  a  quantity  of  provision  to  be  hoarded  up,  or 
wasted,  or  given  to  his  dogs,  or  stewed  down  into  sauces,  or  con- 
verted into  articles  of  superfluous  luxury  ;  especially  if,  by  so 
doing,  he  pinched  the  guests  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table. 

These  are  (he  accounts  that  have  been  given  of  the  matter,  by 
the  best  writers  upon  the  subject ;  but,  were  these  accounts  per- 
fectly unexceptionable,  they  would  none  of  them,  I  fear,  avail  us 
in  vindicating  our  present  claims  of  property  in  land,  unless  it 
were  more  probable  than  it  is,  that  our  estates  were  actually  ac- 
quired at  first,  in  some  of  the  ways  which  these  accounts  suppose  ; 
and  that  a  regular  regard  had  been  paid  to  justice,  in  every  suc- 
cessive transmission  of  them  since:  for  if  one  link  in  the  chain 
fail,  every  title  posterior  to  it  falls  to  the  ground. 

The  real  foundation  oJ|  our  right  is  the  law  of  the  land. 

It  is  the  intention  of  God  that  the  produce  of  the  earth  be  ap- 
plied to  the  use  of  man:  this  intention  cannot  be  fulfilled  without 
establishing  property ;  which  is  consistent  therefore  with  his  will, 
that  property  be  established.  The  land  cannot  be  divided  into 
separate  property,  without  leaving  it  to  the  law  of  the  country  to 
regulate  that  division :  it  is  consistent  therefore  with  the  same 
will,  that  the  law  should  regulate  the  division ;  and,  consequently, 
11 


82  PROPERTY  IN  LAND. 

"consistent  with   the  will  of  God,''  or  "right,''  that  I  should 
possess  that  share  which  these  regulations  assign  me. 

By  whatever  circuitous  irain  of  reasoning  you  attempt  to  de- 
rive this  right,  it  must  terminate  at  last  in  the  will  of  God  ;  the 
straightest,  therefore  and  shortest  way  of  arriving  at  this  will,  is 
the  hest. 

Hence  it  appears,  that  my  right  to  an  estate  does  not  at  all 
depend  upon  the  manner  or  justice  of  the  original  acquisition; 
nor  upon  the  justice  of  each  subsequent  change  of  possession.  It 
is  not,  for  instance,  the  less,  nor  ought  it  to  he  impeached,  be- 
cause the  estate  was  taken  possession  of  at  first  by  a  family  of 
aboriginal  Britons,  who  happened  to  be  stronger  than  their  neigh- 
bours ;  nor  because  the  British  possessor  was  turned  out  by  a 
Roman,  or  the  Roman  by  a  Saxon  invader;  nor  because  it  was 
seized,  without  colour  of  right  or  reason,  by  a  follower  of  the 
Norman  adventurer;  from  whom,  after  many  interruptions  of 
fraud  and  violence,  it  has  at  length  devolved  to  me. 

Nor  does  the  owner's  right  depend  upou  the  expediency  of  the 
law  which  gives  it  to  him.  On  one  side  of  a  brook,  an  estate 
descends  to  the  eldest  son;  on  the  other  side,  to  all  the  children 
alike.  The  right  of  the  claimants  under  both  laws  of  inheritance 
is  equal ;  though  the  expediency  of  such  opposite  rules  must  ne- 
cessarily be  different. 

The  principles  we  have  laid  down  upon  this  subject  apparently 
fend  to  a  conclusion  of  which  a  bad  use  is  apt  to  be  made.  As 
the  right  of  property  depends  upon  the  law  of  the  land,  it  seems 
to  follow,  that  a  man  has  a  right  to  keep  and  take  every  thing 
which  the  law  will  allow  him  to  keep  and  take  :  which  in  many 
cases  will  authorize  the  most  flagitious  chicanery.  If  a  creditor 
upon  a  simple  contract  neglect  to  demand  his  debt  for  six  years, 
the  debtor  may  refuse  to  pay  it :  would  it  be  right  therefore  to  do 
so,  where  he  is  conscious  of  the  justice  of  the  debt  ?  If  a  person, 
who  is  under  twenty-one  years  of  age,  contract  a  bargain  (other 
than  for  necessaries,)  he  may  avoid  it  by  pleading  his  minority :  but 
would  this  be  a  fair  plea,  where  the  bargain  was  originally  just  ? 
The  distinction  to  be  taken  in  such  cases  is  this :  With  the  law, 
we  acknowledge,  resides  the  disposal  of  property :  so  long  there- 
fore as  we  keep  within  the  desigu  and  intention  of  a  law,  that 
law  will  justify  us,  as  well  inforo  conscientice,  as  inforo  humano, 
whatever  be  the  equity  or  expediency  of  the  law  itself.    But 


PROPERTY  IN  LAND.  83 

when  we  convert  to  one  purpose,  a  rule  or  expression  of  law, 
which  is  intended  for  another  purpose,  then  we  plead  in  our  jus- 
tification, not  the  intention  of  the  law.  but  the  words  ;  that  is,  we 
plead  a  dead  leiter,  which  can  signify  nothing  :  for  words  without 
meaning  or  intention  have  no  force  or  effect  in  justice,  much  less 
words  taken  contrary  to  the  meaning  and  intention  of  the  speaker 
or  writer.  To  apply  this  distinction  to  the  examples  just  now 
proposed :  in  order  to  protect  men  against  antiquated  demands, 
from  which  it  is  not  probable  they  should  have  preserved  the  evi- 
dence of  their  discharge,  the  law  prescribes  a  limited  time  to  cer- 
tain species  of  private  securities,  beyond  which  it  will  not  enforce 
them,  or  lend  its  assistance  to  the  recovery  of  the  debt.  If  a  man 
he  ignorant  or  dubious  of  the  justice  of  the  demand  made  upon 
him,  he  mny  conscientiously  plead  this  limitation :  because  he 
applies  the  vide  of  law  to  the  purpose  for  ivhich  it  id'as  intended. 
But  when  he  refuses  to  pay  a  debt,  of  the  reality  of  which  he  is 
conscious,  he  cannot,  as  before,  plead  the  intention  of  the  statute, 
and  the  supreme  authority  of  law,  unless  he  could  show,  that 
the  law  intended  to  interpose  its  supreme  authority,  to  acquit 
men  of  debts,  of  the  existence  and  justice  of  which  they  were 
themselves  sensible.  Again,  to  preserve  youth  from  the  practices 
and  impositions,  to  which  thc'r  inexperience  exposes  them,  the 
law  compels  the  payment  of  no  debts  incurred  within  a  certain 
age,  nor  the  performance  of  any  engagements,  except  for  such  ne- 
cessaries as  are  suited  to  their  condition  and  fortunes.  If  a  young 
person  therefore  perceive  that  he  has  been  practised  or  imposed 
upon,  he  may  honestly  avail  himself  of  the  privilege  of  his  non- 
age, to  defeat  the  circumvention.  But,  if  he  shelter  himself  under 
this  privilege,  to  avoid  a  fair  obligation,  or  an  equitable  contract, 
he  extends  the  privilege  to  a  case,  in  which  it  is  not  allowed  by 
intention  of  law,  and  in  which  consequently  it  does  not,  in  natural 
justice,  exist. 

As  property  is  the  principal  subject  of  justice,  or  of  "  the  de- 
terminate relative  duties,"  we  have  put  down  what  we  had  to  say 
upon  it  in  the  first  place:  we  now  proceed  to  state  these  duties  in 
the  best  order  we  can. 


84  PROMISES. 

CHAPTER  V. 

PROMISES. 

I.  FROM  whence  the  obligation  to  perform  promises  arises. 

II.  In  what  sense  promises  are  to  be  interpreted. 

III.  In  what  cases  promises  are  not  binding-. 

1.  From  whence  the  obligation  to  perform  promises  arises. 

They  who  argue  from  innate  moral  principles,  suppose  a  sense 
of  the  obligation  of  promises  to  be  one  of  them  ;  but  without  as- 
suming this,  or  any  thing  else,  without  proof,  the  obligation  to 
perform  promises  may  be  deduced  from  the  necessity  of  such  a 
conduct,  to  the  -well-being,  or  the  existence  indeed,  of  human 
society. 

Men  act  from  expectation.  Expectation  is  in  most  cases  deter- 
mined by  the  assurances  and  engagements  which  we  receive  from 
others.  If  no  dependence  could  be  placed  upon  these  assurances, 
it  would  be  impossible  to  know  what  judgment  to  form  of  many 
future  events,  or  how  to  regulate  our  conduct  with  respect  to 
them.  Confidence  therefore  in  promises  is  essential  to  the  inter- 
course of  human  life :  because,  without  it,  the  greatest  part  of 
our  conduct  would  proceed  upon  chance.  But  there  could  be  no 
confidence  in  promises,  if  men  were  not  obliged  to  perform  them  ; 
the  obligation  therefore  to  perform  promises,  is  essential,  to  the 
same  end.  and  in  the  same  degree. 

Some  may  imagine,  that  if  this  obligation  were  suspended,  a 
general  caution  and  mutual  distrust  would  ensue,  which  might  do 
as  well :  but  this  is  imagined,  without  considering,  how  every 
hour  of  our  lives  we  trust  to,  and  depend  upon  others ;  and  how 
impossible  it  is,  to  stir  a  step,  or,  what  is  worse,  to  sit  stiil  a  mo- 
ment, without  such  trust  and  dependence.  I  am  now  writing  at 
my  ease,  not  doubting  (or  rather  never  distrusting,  and  therefore 
never  thinking  about  it)  but  that  the  butcher  will  send  in  the  joint 
of  meat  which  I  ordered  ;  that  his  servant  will  bring  it ;  that  my 
cook  will  dress  it;  that  my  footman  will  serve  it  up  ;  and  that  I 
shall  find  it  upoH  the  table  at  one  o'clock.  Yet  have  I  nothing 
for  all  this,  but  the  promise  of  the  butcher,  aud  the  implied  pro- 
mise of  his  servant  and  mine.     And  the  same  holds  of  the  rrfost 


PROMISES.  85 

important  as  well  as  the  most  familiar  occurrences  of  social  life. 
In  the  one  the  intervention  of  promises  is  formal,  and  is  seen 
and  acknowledged;  our  instance,  therefore,  is  intended  to  show 
it  in  the  other,  where  it  is  not  so  distinctly  observed. 

II.  In  what  sense  promises  are  to  be  interpreted. 

Where  the  terms  of  promise  admit  of  more  senses  than  one,  the 
promise  is  to  be  performed  "  in  that  sense  in  which  the  promiser 
apprehended  at  the  time  that  the  promisee  received  it." 

It  is  not  the  sense  m  which  the  promiser  actually  intended  it, 
that  always  governs 'the  interpretation  of  an  equivocal  promise; 
heeause,  at  that  rate,  you  mjght  excite  expectation,  which  you 
never  meant,  nor-j,vould  beHbliged,  to  satisfy.  Much  less  is  it 
the  sense,  in  which  the  promisee  actually  received  the  promise  ; 
for,  according  to  that  rule,  you  might  be  drawn  into  engagements 
which  you  never  design  to  undertake.  It  must  therefore  be  the 
sense  (for  there  is  no  other  remaining)  in  which  the  promiser  be- 
lieved that  the.  promisee  accepted  his  promise. 

This  will  not  differ  from  the  actual  intention  of  the  promiser, 
where  the  promise  is  given  without  collusion  or  reserve;  but  we 
put  the  rule  in  the  above  form,  to  exclude  evasion  in  cases  in 
which  the  popular  meaning  of  a  phrase,  and  the  strict  gram- 
matical signification  of  the  words,  differ;  or,  in  general,  where- 
ever  the  promiser  attempts  to  make  his  escape  through  some 
ambiguity  in  the  expressions  which  he  used. 

Temures  promised  the  garrison  of  Sebasfia,  that,  if  they  would 
surrender,  no  blood  should  be  shed.  The  garrison  surrendered  ; 
and  Temures  buried  them  all  alive.  Now  Temures  fulfilled  the 
promise  in  one  sense,  and  in  the  sense  too  in  which  he  intended  it 
at  the  time  ;  but  not  in  the  sense  in  which  the  garrison  of  Sebastia 
actually  received  it,  nor  in  the  sense  in  which  Temures  himself 
knew  that  the  garrison  received  it:  which  last  sense,  according 
to  our  rule,  was  the  sense  in  which  he  was  in  conscience  bound  to 
have  performed  it. 

From  the  account  we  have  given  of  the  obligation  of  promise?, 
it  is  evident,  that  this  obligation  depends  upon  the  expectations 
which  we  knowingly  and  voluntarily  excite. — Consequently,  any 
action  or  conduct  towards  another,  which  we  are  sensible  excites 
expectations  in  that  other,  is  as  much  a  promise,  and  creates  a? 
strict  an  obligation,  as  the*  most  express  assurances.  Taking,  for 
instance,  a  kinsman's  child,  and  educating  him  for  a  liberal  pro- 


$5  PROMISES. 

fession,  or  in  a  manner  suitable  only  for  the  heir  of  a  large  for- 
tune, as  Qiaeh  obliges  us  to  place  him  in  that  profession,  or  to 
leave  him  such  a  fortune,  as  if  we  had  given  him  a  promise  to  do 
so  under  our  hands  and  seals.  In  like  manner,  a  great  man,  who 
encourages  an  indigent  retainer,  or  a  minister  of  state,  who  dis- 
tinguishes and  caresses  at  his  levee  one  who  is  in  a  situation  to  be 
obliged  by  bis  patronage,  engages,  by  such  behaviour,  to  provide 
for  him.     This  is  the  foundation  of  tacit  promises. 

You  may  either  simply  declare  your  present  intention,  or  you 
may  accompany  your  declaration  with  an  engagement  to  abide  by 
it,  which  constitutes  a  complete  promise.  In  the  first  case,  the 
duty  is  satisfied,  if  you  were  sincere,  at  the  time,  that  is,  if  you 
entertained  at  the  time  the  intention  you  expressed,  however  soon, 
©r  for  whatever  reason,  you  afterwards  change  it.  In  the  latter 
case,  you  have  parted  with  the  liberty  of  changing.  All  this  is 
plain  ;  but  it  must  be  observed,  that  most  of  those  forms  of  speech, 
which,  strictly  taken,  amount  to  no  more  than  declarations  of 
present  intention,  do  yet,  in  the  usual  way  of  understanding  them, 
excite  the  expectation,  and  therefore  carry  with  them  the  force 
of  absolute  promises.  Such  as,  "1  intend  you  this  place. " — "I 
design  to  leave  you  this  estate." — "  I  purpose  giving  you  my 
vote." — "  I  mean  to  serve  you." — In  which,  although  the  "  inten- 
tention,''  the  "  design,"  the  "  purpose,"  the  "  meaning,"  be  ex- 
pressed in  words  of  the  present  time,  yet  you  cannot  afterwards 
recede  from  them,  without  a  breach  of  good  faith.  If  you  choose 
therefore  to  make  known  your  present  intention,  and  yet  to  reserve 
to  yourself  the  liberty  of  changing  it,  you  must  guard  your  ex- 
pressions by  an  additional  clause,  as,  "J  intend  at  present — if  I 
do  not  alter" — or  the  like.  And  after  all,  as  there  can  be  no  rea- 
son for  communicating  your  intention,  but  to  excite  some  degree 
of  expectation  or  other,  a  wanton  change  of  an  intention  which  is 
once  disclosed,  always  disappoints  somebody  ;  and  is  always  for 
that  reason,  wrong. 

There  is,  in  some  men,  an  infirmity  with  regard  to  promises, 
which  often  betrays  them  into  great  distress.  From  the  confu- 
sion, or  hesitation,  or  obscurity,  with  which  they  express  them- 
selves, especially  when  overawed,  or  taken  by  surprise,  they 
sometimes  encourage  expectations,  and  bring  upon  themselves 
demands,  which,  possibly,  they  never  dreamed  of.  This  is  a  want, 
not  so  much  of  integrity,  as  of  presence  of  mind. 

HI.  In  what  cases  promises  are  not  binding. 


t/u. 


PROMISES.  8^ 


i.  Promises  are  not  binding,  where  the  performance  is  impos- 
sible. 

But  observe,  that  the  promiser  is  guilty  of  a  fraud,  if  he  be 
secretly  aware  of  the  impossibility,  at  the  time  of  making  the 
promise.  For,  when  any  one  promises  a  thing,  he  asserts  his 
belief,  at  least,  of  the  possibility  of  performing  it  ;  as  no  one  can 
accept  or  understand  a  promise  under  any  other  supposition.  In- 
stances of  this  sort  are  the  following:  The  minister  promises  a 
place,  which  he  knows  to  be  engaged,  or  not  at  his  disposal  : — A 
father,  in  settling  marriage  articles,  promises  to  leave  his  daugh- 
ter an  estate,  which  he  knows  to  be  entailed  upon  the  heir  male 
of  his  family: — A  merchant  promises  a  ship,  or  a  share  of  a 
ship,  which  he  is  privately  advised  is  lost  at  sea  : — An  incumbent 
promises  to  resign  a  living,  being  previously  assured  that  Lis  re- 
signation will  not  be  accepted  by  the  bishop.  The  promiser,  as 
in  these  cases,  with  knowledge  of  the  impossibility,  is  justly  an- 
swerable in  an  equivalent  ;  but  otherwise  not. 

"When  the  promiser  himself  occasions  the  impossibility,  it  is 
neither  more  nor  less  than  a  direct  breach  of  the  promise  ;  as 
when  a  soldier  maims,  or  a  servant  disables  himself,  to  get  rid 
of  his  engagements. 

2.  Promises  are  not  binding,  where  the  performance  is  un- \ 
lawful. 

There  are  two  cases  of  this  ;  one,  where  the  unlawfulness  i'  * 
known  to  the  parties,  at  the  time  of  making  the  promise  ;  a  s 
where  an  assassin  promises  his  employer  to  dispatch  his  rival  c.»r 
his  enemy  ;  a  servant  to  betray  his  master  ;  a  pimp  to  procure  a 
mistress;  or  a  friend  to  give  his  assistance  in  a  scheme  of  sedulc- 
tion.  The  parties  in  these  cases  are  not  obliged  to  perform  whiiat 
the  promise  requires,  because  they  were  under  a  prior  obligation 
to  the  contrary.  From  which  prior  obligation,  what  is  there,,  to 
discharge  them  ?  Their  promise — their  own  act  and  deed. — JJSut 
an  obligation  from  which  a  man  can  discharge  himself,  by  jhis 
own  act,  is  no  obligation  at  all.  The  guilt  therefore  of  si.uch 
promises  lies  in  the  making,  not  in  the  breaking  of  them  ;  and 
if,  in  the  interval  betwixt  the  promise  and  the  performance,  a 
man  so  far  recover  his  reflection,  as  to  repent  of  his  engagem  ents, 
he  ought  certainly  to  break  through  them. 

The  other  case  is,  where  the  unlawfulness  did  not  exist,  o  r  was 
not  known,  at  the  time  of  making  the  promise  ;  as  where  a   mer» 


gg  PROMISES. 

chant  promises  his  correspondent  abroad,  to  send  him  a  ship-load 
of  corn  at  a  time  appointed,  and,  before  the  time  arrive,  an  em- 
bargo is  laid  upon  the  exportation  of  corn: — A  woman  gives  a 
promise  of  marriage  j  before  the  marriage,  she  discovers  that  her 
intended  husband  is  too  nearly  related  to  her,  or  that  he  has  a 
wife  yet  living.  In  all  such  cases,  where  the  contrary  does  not 
appear,  it  must  be  presumed,  that  the  parties  supposed  what 
they  promised  to  be  lawful,  and  that  the  promise  proceeded  en- 
tirely upon  this  supposition.  The  lawfulness  therefore  becomes 
a  condition  of  the  promise  :  which  condition  failing,  the  obliga- 
tion ceases. — Of  the  same  nature  was  Herod's  promise  to  his 
daughter-in-law,  "  that  he  would  give  her  whatever  she  asked, 
even  to  the  half  of  his  kingdom.''  The  promise  was  not  unlaw- 
ful in  the  terms  in  which  Herod  delivered  it;  and  when  it  be- 
came so  by  the  daughter's  choice,  by  her  demanding  "  John  the 
Baptist's  head,"  Herod  was  discharged  from  the  obligation  of 
it,  for  the  reason  now  laid  down,  as  well  as  for  that  given  in  the 
last  paragraph. 

This  rule,  "  that  promises  are  void,  where  the  performance  is 
unlawful,"  extends  also  to  imperfect  obligations  :  for  the  reason 
of  the  rule  holds  of  all  obligations.  Thus,  if  you  promise  a  man 
a  place,  or  your  vote,  and  he  afterwards  renders  himself  unfit  to 
receive  either,  you  are  absolved  from  the  obligation  of  your  pro- 
mise ;  or,  if  a  better  candidate  appear,  and  it  be  a  case  in  which 
you  are  bound  by  oath,  or  otherwise,  to  govern  yourself  by  the 
qualification,  the  promise  must  be  broken  through. 

And  here  I  would  recommend,  to  young  persons  especially,  a 
caution,  from  the  neglect  of  which,  many  involve  themselves  in 
embarrassment  and  disgrace  ;  and  that  is,  "  never  to  give  a 
promise,  which  may  interfere  in  the  event  with  their  duty  ;''  for, 
if  it  do  so  interfere,  their  duty  must  be  discharged,  though  at  the 
expense  of  their  promise,  and  not  unusually  of  their  good  name. 

The  speeihc  performance  of  promises  is  reckoned  a  perfect 
obligation.  And  many  casuists  have  laid  down,  in  opposition  to 
what  has  been  here  asserted,  that,  where  a  perfect  and  an  imper- 
fect obligation  clash,  the  perfect  obligation  is  to  be  preferred. 
For  which  opinion,  however,  there  seems  to  be  no  feason,  but 
what  arises  from  the  terms  "  perfect,"  and  "  imperfect,"  the 
impropriety  of  which  has  been  remarked  above.  The  truth  is, 
of  two  contradictory  obligations,  that  ought  to  prevail  which  is 
prior  in  point  of  time. 


PROMISES.  89 

It  is  the  performance  being  unlawful,  and  not  any  unlawfulness 
in  the  subject  or  motive  of  the  promise,  which  destroys  its  valid- 
ity :  therefore  a  bribe,  after  the  vote  i9  given  ;  the  wages  of  pros- 
titution ;  the  reward  of  any  crime,  after  the  crime  is  committed, 
ought,  if  promised,  to  be  paid.  For  the  sin  and  mischief,  by  this 
supposition,  are  over;  and  will  be  neither  more  nor  less  for  the 
performance  of  the  promise. 

In  like  manner,  a  promise  does  not  lose  its  obligation,  merely, 
because  it  proceeded  from  an  unlawful  motive.  A  certain  person, 
in  the  lifetime  of  his  wife,  who  was  then  sick,  had  paid  his  ad- 
dresses, and  promised  marriage  to  another  woman ; — the  wife  died ; 
am!  the  woman  demanded  performance  of  the  promise.  The  man, 
who,  it  seems,  had  changed  his  mind,  either  felt  or  pretended 
doubts  concerning  the  obligation  of  such  a  promise,  and  referred 
his  case  to  Bishop  Sanderson,  the  most  eminent  in  this  kind  of 
knowledge  of  his  time.  Bishop  Sanderson,  after  writing  a  disser- 
tation upon  the  question,  adjudged  the  promise  to  be  void.  In 
which,  however,  upon  our  principles,  he  was  wrong:  for,  how- 
ever criminal  the  affection  might  be,  which  induced  the  promise, 
the  performance  when  it  was  demanded,  was  lawful ;  which  is 
the  only  lawfulness  required. 

A  promise  cannot  be  deemed  unlawful,  where  it  produces,  when 
performed,  no  effect,  beyond  what  would  have  taken  place  had 
the  promise  never  been  made.  And  this  is  the  single  case,  in 
which  the  obligation  of  a  promise  will  justify  a  conduct,  which, 
unless  it  had  been  promised,  would  be  unjust.  A  captive  may 
lawfully  recover  his  liberty,  by  a  promise  of  neutrality  ;  for  his 
conqueror  takes  nothing  by  the  promise,  which  he  might  not  have 
secured  by  his  death  or  confinement ;  and  neutrality  would  be 
innocent  in  him,  although  criminal  in  another.  It  is  manifest, 
however,  that  prpmises  which  come  into  the  place  of  coercion, 
can  extend  no  farther  than  to  passive  compliances ;  for  coercion 
itself  eon  Id  compel  no  more.  Upon  the  same  principle,  promises 
of  secrecy  ought  not  to  be  violated,  although  the  public  would  de- 
rive advantage  from  the  discovery.  Such  promises  contain  no 
unlawfulness  in  them,  to  destroy  their  obligation;  for,  as  the  in- 
formation would  not  have  been  imparted  upon  any  other  condi- 
tion, the  public  lose  nothing  by  the  promise,  which  they  would 
have  gained  without  it. 

IS 


X 


00  PROMISES. 

3.  Promises  are  not  binding,  where  they  contradict  a  former 
promise. 

Because  the  performance  is  then  unlawful ;  which  resolves  this 
case  into  the  last. 

4.  Promises  are  not  binding  before  acceptance  ;  that  is,  before 
notice  given  to  the  promisee  ;  for,  where  the  promise  is  beneficial, 
if  notice  be  given,  acceptance  may  be  presumed.  Until  the  pro- 
mise be  communicated  to  the  promisee,  it  is  the  same  only  as  a 
resolution  in  the  mind  of  the  promiser,  which  may  be  altered  at 
pleasure.  For  no  expectation  has  been  excited,  therefore  none 
can  be  disappointed. 

But  suppose  I  declare  my  intention  to  a  third  person,  who, 
without  any  authority  from  me,  conveys  my  declaration  to  the 
promisee  ;  is  that  such  a  notice  as/ will  be  binding  upon  me  ?  It 
certainly  is  not :  for  I  have  not  done  that  which  constitutes  the 
essence  of  a  promise; — 1  have  not  voluntarily  excited  expectation. 

5.  Promises  are  not  binding  which  are  released  by  the  prom- 
isee. 

This  is  evident ;  but  it  may  be  sometimes  doubted  who  the  prom- 
isee is.  If  I  give  a  promise  to  A,  of  a  place  or  vote  for  B ;  as  to 
a  father  for  his  son ;  to  an  uncle  for  his  nephew;  to  a  friend  of 
mine,  for  a  relation  or  friend  of  his ;  then  A  is  the  promisee, 
whose  consent  I  must  obtain  to  be  released  from  the  engage- 
ment. 

If  I  promise  a  place  or  vote  to  B  by  A,  that  is,  if  A  be  a  mes- 
senger to  convey  the  promise,  as  if  1  should  say,  "You  may  tell 
B  that  he  shall  have  this  place,  or  may  depend  upon  my  vote ;" 
or  if  A  be  employed  to  introduce  B's  request,  and  1  answer  in  any 
terms  which  amount  to  a  compliance  with  it,  then  B  is  the  prom- 
isee. 

Promises  to  one  person,  for  the  benefit  of  another,  are  not  re- 
leased by  the  death  of  the  promisee  ;  for  his  death  neither  makes 
the  performance  impracticable,  nor  implies  any  consent  to  release 
the  promiser  from  it. 

6.  Erroneous  promises  are  not  binding  inArfain  cases  ;  as, 
1.  Where  the  errour  proceeds  from  the*mistake  or  misrepre- 
sentation of  the  promisee. 

Because  a  promise  evidently  supposes  the  truth  of  the  account, 
which  the  promisee  relates  in  order  to  obtain  it.  A  beggar  solic- 
its your  charity  by  a  story  of  the  most  pitable  distress— you 


PROMISES.  91 

promise  to  relieve  him,  if  he  will  eall  again — in  the  interval  you 
discover  his  story  to  be  made  up  of  lies — this  discovery,  no  doubtj 
releases  you  from  your  promise.  One  who  wants  your  service, 
describes  the  business  or  office  for  which  he  would  engage  you — 
you  promise  to  undertake  it — when  you  come  to  enter  upon  it, 
you  find  the  profits  less,  the  labour  more,  or  some  material  circum- 
stance different  from  the  account  he  gave  you. — In  such  case  you 
are  not  bound  by  your  promise. 

2.  When  the  promise  is  understood  by  the  promisee  to  proceed 
upon  a  certain  supposition,  or  when  the  promiser  apprehended  it 
to  be  so  understood,  and  that  supposition  turns  out  to  be  false ; 
then  the  promise  is  not  binding. 

This  intricate  rule  will  be  best  explained  by  an  example.  A 
father  receives  an  account  from  abroad  of  the  death  of  his  only 
son, — soon  after  which  he  promises  his  fortune  to  his  nephew. — 
The  account  turns  out  to  be  false. — The  father,  we  say,  is  releas- 
ed from  his  promise ;  not  merely  because  he  never  would  have 
made  it,  had  he  known  the  truth  of  the  case, — for  that  alone  will 
not  do; — but  because  the  nephew  also  himself  understood  the 
promise  to  proceed  upon  the  supposition  of  his  cousin's  death  j 
or  at  least  his  uncle  thought,  he  so  understood  it;  and  could  not 
think  otherwise.  The  promise  proceeded  upon  this  supposition 
in  the  promiser's  own  apprehension,  and,  as  he  believed,  in  the 
apprehensiou  of  both  parties;  and  this  belief  of  his  is  the  precise 
circumstance  which  sets  him  free.  The  foundation  of  the  rule  is 
plainly  this,  a  man  is  bound  only  to  satisfy  the  expectation  which 
he  intended  to  excite  ;  whatever  condition  therefore  he  intended 
to  subject  that  expectation  to,  becomes  an  essential  condition  of 
the  promise. 

Errours,  which  come  not  within  this  description,  do  not  annul 
the  obligation  of  a  promise.  I  promise  a  candidate  my  vote; — 
presently^an other  candidate  appears,  for  whom  I  certainly  would 
have  reserved  it,  had  I  been  acquainted  with  his  design.  Here 
therefore,  as  before,  my  promise  proceeded  from  an  errour ;  and 
I  never  should  h<ve  given  such  a  promise,  had  I'been  aware  of 
the  truth  of  the  case,  as  it  has  turned  out.  But  the  promisee  did 
not  know  this  ; — he  did  not  receive  the  promise  subject  to  any  such 
condition,  or  as  proceeding  from  any  such  supposition  ; — nor  did 
1  at  the  time  imagine  he  so  received  it.  This  errour,  therefore, 
©f  mine,  must  fall  upon  my  own  head,  and  (he  promise  be  observed 


g«J  PROMISES. 

notwithstanding.  A  father  promises  a  certain  fortune  with  his 
daughter,  supposing  himself  to  be  worth  so  much ; — his  circum- 
stances turn  out,  upon  examination,  worse  than  he  was  aware  of. 
Here  again  the  promise  was  erroneous,  but,  for  the  reason  assign- 
ed in  the  last  case,  will  nevertheless  be  obligatory. 

The  case  of  erroneous  promises  is  attended  with  some  difficul- 
ty; for  to  allow  every  mistake,  or  change  of  circumstances,  to 
dissolve  the  obligation  of  a  promise,  would  be  to  allow  a  latitude, 
which  might  evacuate  the  force  of  almost  all  promises  ;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  to  gird  the  obligation  so  tight,  as  to  make  no  al- 
lowances for  manifest  and  fundamental  errours,  would,  in  many 
instances,  be  productive  of  great  hardship  and  absurdity. 


It  has  long  been  controverted  amongst  moralists,  whether 
promises  be  binding,  which  are  extorted  by  violence  or  fear.  The 
obligation  of  all  promises  results,  we  have  seen,  from  the  necessity 
or  the  use  of  that  confidence  which  mankind  repose  in  them.  The 
question,  therefore,  whether  these  promises  are  binding,  will  de- 
pend upon  this,  whether  mankind,  upon  the  whole,  are  benefited 
by  the  confidence  placed  in  such  promises?  A  highwayman  at- 
tacks you, — and  being  disappointed  of  his  booty,  threatens  or  pre- 
pares to  murder  you  ; — you  promise,  with  many  solemn  assevera- 
tions, that  if  he  will  spare  your  life,  he  shall  find  a  purse  of 
money  left  for  him,  at  a  place  appointed;  upon  the  faith  of  this 
promise, — he  forbears  from  further  violence.  Now  your  life  was 
saved  by  the  confidence  reposed  in  a  promise  extorted  by  fear; 
and  the  lives  of  many  others  may  be  saved  by  the  same.  This  is 
a  good  consequence.  On  the  other  hand,  confidence  in  promises 
like  these  greatly  facilitates  the  perpetration  of  robberies.  They 
may  be  made  the  instruments  of  almost  unlimited  extortion.  This 
is  a  bad  consequence;  and  in  the  question  between  the  impor- 
tance of  these  opposite  consequences  resides  the  doubt  concerning 
the  obligation  of  such  promises. 

There  are  other  cases  which  are  plainer ;  as  where  a  magis- 
trate confines  a  disturber  of  the  public  peace  in  jail,  till  he  prom- 
ise to  behave  better  ;  or  a  prisoner  of  war  promises  if  set  at  lib- 
erty to  return  within  a  certain  time.     These  promises,  say  mor- 


CONTRACTS.  go 

alistsT  are  binding,  because  the  violence  or  duress  is  just ;  but,  the 
truth  is,  because  there  is  the  same  use  of  confidence  in  these 
promises,  as  of  confidence  in  the  promises  of  a  person  at  perfect 
liberty. 


Vows  are  promises  to  God.  The  obligation  cannot  be  made 
out  upon  the  same  principle  as  that  of  other  promises.  The  vio- 
lation of  them,  nevertheless,  implies  a  want  of  reverence  to  the 
Supreme  Being;  which  is  enough  to  make  it  sinful. 

There  appears  no  command  or  encouragement  in  the  Christian 
scriptures  to  make  vows;  much  less  any  authority  to  break 
through  them  when  they  are  made.  The  few  instances*  of  vows 
wh.ch  we  read  of  in  the  New  Testament  were  religiously  ob- 
served. 

The  rules  we  have  laid  down  concerning  promises  are  appli- 
cable to  vows.  Thus  Jephthah's  vow,  taken  in  the  sense  in  which 
that  transaction  is  commonly  understood,  was  not  binding;  be- 
cause the  performance,  in  that  contingency,  became  unlawful. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CONTRACTS. 

A  CONTRACT  is  a  mutual  promise.  The  obligation,  there- 
fore, of  contracts  ;  the  sense  in  which  they  are  to  be  interpreted  • 
and  the  cases  where  they  are  not  binding,  will  be  the  same  as  of 
promises. 

From  the  principle  established  in  the  last  chapter,  "that  the 
obligation  of  promises  is  to  be  measured  by  the  expectation  which 
the  prom.ser  any  how  voluntarily  and  knowingly  excites."  re- 
results  a  rule,  which  governs  the  construction  oY  all  contracts, 
and  »  capable,  from  its  simplicity,  of  being  applied  with  great 
ease  and  certainty,  viz.     That. 

Whatever  is  expected  by  one  side,  and  known  to  be  so  expected 
lif  the  other,  is  to  be  deemed  apart  or  condition  of  the  contract. 

9  Acts  xviii  18.    xxi   23. 


94 


CONTRACTS  OF  SALE. 


The  several  kinds  of  contracts,  and  the  order  in   which  we 
propose  to  consider  them,  may  be  exhibited  at  one  view,  thus  : 

Sale. 
Hazard. 


Contracts  of  < 


I 


Lending  of  5  Inconsumable  property. 

(Money. 

fService. 

I  Commissions. 
Labour.  <j  partnerghipt 

Offices. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CONTRACTS  OF  SALE. 


THE  rule  of  justice,  which  wants  with  most  anxie(y  to  be  in- 
culcated in  the  making  of  bargains,  is,  that  the  seller  is  bound 
in  conscience  to  disclose  the  faults  of  what  he  offers  for  sale. 
Amongst  other  methods  of  proving  this,  one  may  be  (he  following. 

I  suppose  it  will  be  allowed,  that  to  advance  a  direct  false- 
hood in  recommendation  of  our  wares,  by  ascribing  to  them, 
some  quality  which  we  know  that  they  have  not,  is  dishonest. 
Now  compare  with  this  the  designed  concealment  of  some  fault 
which  we  know  that  they  have.  The  motives  and  the  effects  of 
actions  are  the  only  points  of  comparison,  in  which  their  moral 
quality  can  differ;  but  the  motives* in  these  two  cases  are  the 
same,  viz.  to  procure  a  higher  price  than  we  expect  otherwise  to 
obtain  :  the  effect,  that  is,  the  prejudice  to  the  buyer,  is  also  the 
same;  for  he  finds  himself  equally  out  of  pocket  by  his  bargain, 
whether  the  commodity,  when  be  gets  home  with  it,  turn  out 
worse  than  he  had  supposed,  by  the  want  of  some  quality  which 
he  expected,  or  the  discovery  of  some  fault  which  he  did  not  ex- 
pect. If  therefore  actions  be  the  same,  as  to  all  moral  purposes, 
which  proceed  from  the  same  motives,' and  produce  the  same  ef- 
fects, it  is  making  a  distinction  without  a  difference,  to  esteem  it 


CONTRACTS  OF  SALE.  Q& 

«.  cfieat  to  magnify  beyond  the  truth  the  virtues  of  what  we  have 
to  sell,  but  none  to  conceal  its  faults. 

It  adds  to  the  value  of  this  kind  of  honesty,  that  the  faults  of 
many  things  are  of  a  nature  not  to  be  known  by  any,  but  by  the 
persons  who  have  used  them  :  so  that  the  buyer  has  no  security 
from  imposition,  but  in  the  ingenuousness  and  integrity  of  the 
seller. 

There  is  one  exception  however  to  this  rule,  namely,  where 
the  silence  of  the  seller  implies  some  fault  in  the  thing  to  be  sold, 
and  where  tbe  buyer  has  a  compensation  in  the  price  for  the  risk 
which  he  runs :  as  where  a  horse,  in  a  London  repository,  is  sold 
by  public  auction,  without  warranty  ;  the  want  of  warranty  is 
notice  of  some  unsoundness,  and  produces  a  proportionable 
abatement  in  the  price. 

To  this  of  concealing  the  faults  of  what  we  want  to  put  off,  may 
be  referred  the  practice  of  passing  bad  mouey.  This  practice 
we  sometimes  hear  defended  by  a  vulgar  excuse,  that  we  have 
taken  the  money  for  good,  and  must  therefore  get  rid  of  it. 
Which  excuse  is  much  the  same  as  if  one,  who  had  been  robbed 
upon  the  highway,  should  allege  that  he  had  a  right  to  reim- 
burse himself  out  of  the  pocket  of  (he  first  traveller  he  met ;  the 
justice  of  which  reasoning  the  traveller  possibly  may  not  com- 
prehend. 

Where  there  exists  no  monopoly  or  combination,  the  market 
price  is  always  a  fair  price;  because  it  will  always  be  propor- 
tionable to  the  use  and  scarcity  of  the  article.  Hence,  there  need 
be  no  scruple  about  demanding  or  taking  the  market  price ; 
and  all  those  expressions,  "  provisions  are  extravagantly  dear,'' 
"  corn  bears  an  unreasonable  price,''  and  the  like,  import  no  un- 
fairness or  unreasonableness  in  the  seller. 

If  your  tailor  or  your  draper  charge,  or  even  ask  of  you,  more 
for  a  suit  of  clothes,  than  the  market  price,  you  complain  that 
you  are  imposed  upon ;  you  pronounce  the  tradesman  who  makes 
such  a  charge  dishonest :  although,  as  the  man's  goods  were  his 
own,  and  he  had  a  right  to  prescribe  the  terms  upon  which  he 
would  consent  to  part  with  them,  it  may  be  questioned  what  dis- 
honesty there  can  be  in  the  case,  or  wherein  the  imposition  con- 
sists. Whoever  opens  a  shop,  or  in  any  manner  exposes  goods  to 
public  sale,  virtually  engages  to  deal  with  his  customers  at  a 
market  price ;  because  it  is  upon  the  faith  and  opinion  of  such 


96  CONTRACTS  OF  SALE. 

an  engagement,  that  any  one  comes  within  his  shop  doors,  or 
offers  to  treat  with  him.  This  is  expected  by  the  buyer ;  is  known 
to  be  so  expected  by  the  seller;  which  is  enough  according  to  the 
rule  delivered  above,  to  make  it  a  part  of  the  contract  between 
them,  though  not  a  syallable  be  said  about  it.  The  breach  of 
this  implied  contract  constitutes  the  fraud  inquired  after. 

Hence,  if  you  disclaim  any  such  engagement,  you  may  set  what 
value  you  please  upon  your  property.  If,  upon  being  asked  to 
sell  a  house,  you  answer  that  the  house  suits  your  fancy  or  cou- 
vieniency,  and  that  you  will  not  turn  yourself  out  of  it  under  such 
a  price ;  the  price  fixed  may  be  double  of  what  the  house  cost,  or 
would  fetch  at  a  public  sale,  without  an  imputation  of  injustice  or 
extortion  upon  you. 

If  the  thing  sold  be  damaged,  or  perish  between  the  sale  and 
the  delivery,  ought  the  buyer  to  bear  the  loss,  or  the  seller  ?  This 
will  depend  upon  the  particular  construction  of  the  contract.  If 
the  seller,  either  expressly,  or  by  implication,  or  by  custom,  en- 
gage to  deliver  the  goods  ;  as,  if  I  buy  a  set  of  china,  and  the 
china-man  ask  me  to  what  place  he  shall  bring  or  send  them, 
and  they  be  broken  in  the  conveyance,  the  seller  must  abide  by 
the  loss.  If  the  thing  sold  remain  with  the  seller,  at  the  instance 
or  for  the  conveniency  of  the  buyer,  then  the  buyer  undertakes  the 
risk  ;  as  if  I  buy  a  horse,  and  mention,  that  I  will  send  for  it  on 
such  a  day,  which  is  in  effect  desiring  that  it  may  continue  with 
the  seller  till  I  do  send  for  it,  then,  whatever  misfortune  befalls 
the  horse  in  the  mean  time,  must  be  at  my  cost. 

And  here,  once  for  all,  I  would  observe,  that  innumerable  ques- 
tions of  this  sort  are  determined  solely  by  custom;  not  that  cus- 
tom possesses  any  proper  authority  to  alter  or  ascertain  the  nature 
of  right  and  wrong  ;  but  because  the  contracting  parties  are 
presumed  to  include  in  their  stipulation,  all  the  conditions  which 
custom  has  annexed  to  contracts  of  the  same  sort ;  and  when  the 
usage  is  notorious,  and  no  exception  made  to  it,  this  presumption 
is  generally  agreeable  to  the  fact.* 

*  It  happens  here,  as  in  many  cases,  that  what  the  parties  ought'to  do,  and 
what  a  judge  or  arbitrator  would  award  to  be  done,  may  be  very  different. 
What  the  parties  ought  to  do  by  virtue  of  their  contract,  depends  upon  their 
consciousness  at  the  time  of  making  it :  whereas  a  third  person  finds  it  neces- 
sary to  found  his  judgment  upon  presumptions,'  which  presumptions  may  be 
false,  although  the  most  probable  that  he  could  proceed  by. 


CONTRACTS  OF  HAZARD.  0^ 

If  I  ordera  pipe  of  port  from  a  wine  merchant  abroad ;  at 
what  period  the  property  passes  from  the  merchant  to  me ; 
whether  upon  the  delivery  of  the  wine  at  the  merchant's  ware- 
house ;  upon  its  being  put  on  shipboard  a?  Oporto ;  upon  the  ar- 
rival of  the  ship  in  England  ;  at  its  destined  port;  or  not  till  the 
wine  be  committed  to  my  servants,  or  deposited  in  my  cellar,  are 
all  questions,  which  admit  of  no  decision,  but  what  custom  points 
out.  Whence,  in  justice,  as  well  as  law,  what  is  called  the  cus- 
tom of  merchants,  regulates  the  construction  of  mercantile  con- 
cerns. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CONTRACTS  OF  HAZARD. 

BY  Contracts  of  Hazard,  I  mean  gaming  and  iusurance. 

What  some  say  of  this  kind  of  contracts,  "  that  one  side  ought 
not  to  have  any  advantage  over  the  other''  is  neither  practicable 
nor  true.  It  is  not  practicable ;  for  that  perfect  equality  of  skill 
and  judgment,  which  this  rule  requires,  U  seldom  to  be  met  with. 
I  might  not  have  it  in  my  power  to  play  with  fairness  a  game  at 
cards,  billiards,  or  tennis ;  lay  a  wager  at  a  horse  race  ;  or  under- 
write a  policy  of  insurance,  once  in  a  twelvemonth,  if  I  must  wait 
till  I  meet  with  a  person,  whose  art,  skill,  and  judgment  in  these 
matters,  is  neither  greater  nor  less  than  my  own.  Nor  is  this 
equality  requisite  to  the  justice  of  the  contract.  One  party  may 
give  to  the  other  the  whole  of  the  stake,  if  he  please,  and  the 
other  party  may  justly  accept  it,  if  it  be  given  him;  much  more 
therefore  may  one  give  to  the  other  apart  of  the  stake ;  or  what 
is  exactly  the  same  thing,  an  advantage  in  the  chance  of  winning 
the  whole. 

The  proper  restriction  is,  that  neither  side  have  an  advantage, 
by  means  of  which  the  other  is  not  aware;  for  this  is  an  advan- 
tage taken,  without  being  given.  Although  the  event  be  still  an 
uncertainty,  your  advantage  in  the  chance  has  a  certain  value  ; 
and  so  much  of  the  stake,  as  that  value  amounts  to,  is  taken 
from  your  adversary  without  his  knowledge,  and  therefore  with- 
13 


gg  CONTRACTS  OP  HAZARD. 

out  his  consent.  If  I  sit  down  to  a  game  at  whist,  and  have  ad- 
vantage over  the  adversary,  by  means  of  a  better  memory,  closer 
attention,  or  a  superior  knowledge  of  the  rules  and  chances  of 
the  game,  the  advantage  is  fair  ;  because  it  is  obtained  by  means  of 
which  the  adversary  is  aware  :  tor  he  is  aware,  when  he  sits  down 
with  me,  that  I  shall  exerr  the  skill  that  1  possess,  to  the  utmost' 
But  if  I  gain  au  advantage  by  packing  the  cards,  glancing  my  eye 
into  the  adversary's  hands,  or  by  concerted*  signals  with  my  part- 
ner, it  is  a  dishonest  advantage;  because  it  depends  upou  means, 
which  the  adversary  never  suspects  that  I  make  use  of. 

The  same  distinction  holds  of  all  contracts  into  which  chance 
enters.  If  I  lay  a  wager  at  a  horse  race,  founded  upon  the  conjec- 
ture I  form  from  the  appearance,  and  character,  aud  breed  of  tho 
horses,  I  am  justly  entitled  to  any  advantage  which  my  ju  igment 
gives  me  ;  but  if  I  carry  on  a  clandestine  correspondence  with 
the  joekies,  and  find  out  from  them,  that  a  trial  has  been  actually 
made,  or  that  it  is  settled  beforehand  which  horse  shall  win  the 
race ;  all  such  information  is  so  much  fraud,  because  derived 
from  sources  of  which  the  other  did  not  suspect,  when  he  pro- 
posed or  accepted  the  wager. 

In  speculations  in  trade,  or  in  the  stocks,  if  I  exercise  my  judg- 
ment upon  the  general  aspect  and  posture  of  public  affairs,  and 
deal  with  a  person  vrho  conducts  himself  by  the  same  sort  of 
judgment,  the  contract  has  all  the  equality  in  it  which  is  neces- 
sary :  but  if  I  have  access  to  secrets  of  state  at  home,  or  private 
advice  of  some  decisive  measure  or  event  abroad,  I  cannot  avail 
myself  of  these  advantages  with  justice,  because  they  are  excluded 
hy  the  contract,  which  proceeded  upon  the-  supposition,  that  I 
had  no  such  advantage. 

In  insurances  in  which  the  underwriter  computes  his  risk  en- 
tirely from  the  account  given  by  the  person  insured,  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  the  justice  and  validity  of  the  contract,  that 
this  account  he  exact  and  complete. 


LENDING  OP  INCONSUMABLE  PROPERTY.  99 

CHAPTER  IX. 

CONTRACTS  OF  LENDING  OF  INCONSUMABLE  PROPERTY. 

WHEN  the  identical  loan  is  to  be  returned,  as  a  book,  a  horse,  a 
harpsichord,  it  is  called  inconsumable,  in  opposition  to  corn,  wine, 
money,  and  those  things  which  perish,  or  are  parted  within  the 
use,  and  can  therefore  only  be  restored  in  kind. 

The  questions  under  this  head  are  few  and  simple.  The  first 
is,  if  the  thing  lent  be  lost  or  damaged,  who  ought  to  bear  the  loss 
or  damage  ?  If  it  be  damaged  by  the  use,  or  by  accident  in  the 
use,  for  which  it  was  lent,  the  lender  ought  to  bear  it ;  as  if  I 
hire  a  job  coach,  the  wear,  tear,  and  soiling  of  the  coach  must 
belong  to  the  lender;  or  a  horse  to  go  a  particular  journey,  and 
in  going  the  proposed  journey,  the  horse  die,  or  be  lamed,  the 
loss  must  be  the  letider's :  on  the  contrary,  if  the  damage  be  oc- 
casioned by  the  fault  of  the  borrower,  or  by  accident  in  some  use 
for  which  it  was  not  lent,  then  the  borrower  must  make  it  good  j 
as  if  the  coach  be  overturned  or  broken  to  pieces  by  the  careless- 
ness of  your  coachman :  or  the  ftorse  be  hired  to  take  a  morning's 
ride  upon,  and  v<w  go  a  bunting  with  hirn,  or  leap  hirn  over 
hedges,  or  put  him  \v<o  your  eart  or  carriage,  and  he  be 
strained,  or  staked,  or  galled,  or  accidentally  hurt,  or  drop  down 
dead,  whilst  you  are  thus  using  him  ;  you  must  make  satisfaction 
to  the  owner. 

The  two  cases  are  distinguished  by  this  circumstance,  that  in 
one  case,  the  owner  foresees  the  damage  or  risk,  and  therefore 
consents  to  undertake  it;  in  the  other  case  he  does  not. 

It  is  possible  that  an  estate  or  a  house  may,  during  the  term  of 
a  lease,  be  so  increased  or  diminished  in  its  value,  as  to  become 
worth  much  more,  or  much  less,  than  the  rent  agreed  to  be  paid 
for  it.  In  some  of  which  cases  it  may  be  doubted,  to  whom,  of 
natural  right,  the  advantage,  or  disadvantage  belongs.  The  rule 
of  justice  seems  to  be  this  :  If  the  alteration  might  be  expected  by 
the  parties,  the  hirer  must  take  the  consequence;  if  it  could  not, 
the  owner.  An  orchard,  or  a  vineyard,  or  a  mine,  or  a  fishery, 
or  a  decoy,  may  this  year  yield  noth  ng  or  next  to  nothing,  yet  the 
lenant  shall  pay  his  rent ;  and  if  they  next  year  produce  tenfold 


£00     CONTRACTS  CONCERNING  THE  LENDING  OF  MONEY. 

the  usual  profit,  no  more  shall  be  demanded  ;  because  the  produce 
is  in  its  nature  precarious,  and  this  variation  might  be  expected. 
If  an  estate  in  the  fens  of  Lincolnshire,  or  the  isle  of  Ely,  be 
overflowed  with  water  so  as  to  be  incapable  of  occupation,  the 
tenant,  notwithstanding,  is  bound  by  his  lease;  because  he  enter- 
ed into  it  with  a  knowledge  and  foresight  of  the  danger.     On  the 
other  hand,  if  by  the  irruption  of  the  sea  into  a  country  where  it 
was  never  known  lo  have  come  before,  by  the  change  of  the 
course  of  a  river,  the  fall  of  a  roek,  the  breaking  out  of  a  volca- 
no, the  bursting  of  a  moss,  the  incursions  of  an  enemy,  or  by  a 
mortal  contagion  amongst  the  cattle;  if,  by  means  like  these,  an 
estate  change,  or  lose  its  \alue,  the.loss  shall  fall  upon  the  owner; 
that  is,  the  tenant  shall  either  be  discharged  from  his  agreement, 
or  he  entitled  to  an  abatement  of  rent.     A  house  in  London,  by 
the  building  of  a  bridge,  the  opening  of  a  new  road  or  street,  may 
become  of  ten  times  <ts  former  value ;  and,  by  contrary  causes, 
may  be  as  much  reduced  in  value:  here  also,  as  before,  the  owner, 
not  Ihe   hirer,  shall  be  affected  by  the  alteration.     The  reason 
npon  which  our  determination  proceeds  is  this,  that  changes  such 
as  these,  being  neither  foreseen,  nor  provided  for,  by  the  contract- 
ing parties,  form  no  part  or  condition  of  the  contract;  and  there- 
fore ought   to  have  the  same  eflt«t  as   if  no  contract  at  all  had 
been   made,  (lor  none  was  made  with  respect  to  them,)  that  is, 
ought  to  fall  upon  the  owner. 


CHAPTER  X. 

CONTRACTS  CONCERNING  THE  LENDING  OF  MONEY. 

THERE  exists  no  reason  in  the  law  of  nature,  why  a  man 
should  not  be  paid  for  the  lending  of  his  money,  as  well  as  of  any 
other  property  into  which  the  money  might  be  converted. 

The  scruples  that  have  been  entertained  upon  this  head,  and 
npon  the  foundation  of  which,  the  receiving  of  interest  or  usury 
(for  they  formerly  meant  the  same  thing)  was  once  prohibited  in 
aimost  all  Christian  countries,*   arose  from  a  passage  in  the  law 

*  By  a  statute  of  James  the  First,  interest  above  eight  pounds  per  cent,  was 
prohibited  (and  consequently  under  that  rate  allowed)  with  this  sage  provi- 
sion :  That  this  statute  shall  not  be  construed  or  expounded  to  allow  the  practice 
of  usury  in  point  of  religion  or  conscience. 


CONTRACTS  CONCERNING  THE  LENDING  OF  MONEY.    4Qj[ 

of  Moses,  Deuteronomy,  xxiii.  19,  20,  "  Thou  shalt  not  lend  upon 
usury  to  thy  brother;  usury  of  money,  usury  of  victuals,  usury  of 
any  thing  that  is  lent  upon  usury ;  unto  a  stranger  thou  mayest 
lend  upon  usury  ;  but  unto  thy  brother  thou  shalt  not  lend  upon 
usury.'' 

This  prohibition  is  now  generally  understood  to  have  been  in- 
tended for  the  Jews  alone,  as  part  of  the  civil  or  political  law  of 
that  nation,  and  calculated  to  preserve  amongst  themselves  that 
distribution  of  property,  to  which  many  of  their  institutions  were 
subservient;  as  the  marriage  of  an  heiress  within  her  own  tribe; 
of  a  widow  who  was  left  childless,  to  her  husband's  brother;  the 
year  of  jubilee,  when  alienated  estates  reverted  to  the  family  of 
the  original  proprietor;  regulations,  which  were  never  thought 
to  be  binding  upon  any  but  the  commonwealth  of  Israel. 

This  interpretation  is  confirmed,  I  think,  beyond  all  controversy, 
by  the  distinction  made  in  the  law,  between  a  Jew  and  a  foreigner : 
"  unto  a  stranger  thou  mayest  lend  upon  usury,  but  unto  thy 
brother  thou  mayest  not  lend  upon  usury,"  a  distinction  which 
could  hardly  have  been  admitted  into  a  law,  which  the  divine 
Auihor  intended  to  be  of  moral  and  of  universal  obligation. 

The  rate  of  interest  has  in  most  countries  been  regulated  by  law. 
The  Roman  law  allowed  of  twelve  pounds  per  cent,  which  Jus- 
tinian reduced  at  one  stroke  to  four  pounds.  A  statute  of  the 
thirteenth  year  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  which  was  the  first  that  tol- 
»  eraled  the  receiving  of  interest  in  England  at  all,  restrained  it 
to  ten  pounds  per  cent. ;  a  statute  of  James  the  First,  to  eight 
pounds;  of  Charles  the  Second,  to  six  pounds  ;  of  Queen  Anne, 
to  five  pounds,  on  pain  of  forfeiture  of  treble  the  value  of  the 
money  lent:  at  which  rate  and  penalty  the  matter  now  stands. 
The  policy  of  these  regulations  is,  to  check  the  power  of  accu- 
mulating wealth  without  industry;  to  give  encouragement  to 
trade,  hy  enabling  adventurers  in  it  to  borrow  money  at  a  moderate 
price :  and  of  late  years,  to  enable  the  state  to  borrow  the  subject's 
money  itself. 

Compound  interest,  though  forbidden  by  the  law  of  England, 
is  agreeable  enough  to  natural  equity;  for  interest  detained  aft^P 
it  is  due,  becomes,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  part  of  the  sum  • 
lent. 

It  is  a  question  which  sometimes  occurs,  how  money  borrowed 
in  one  country  ought  to  be  paid  in  another,  where  the  relative 

/ 


102     CONTRACTS  CONCERNING  THE  LENDING  OP  MONET. 

value  of  the  precious  metals  is  not  the  same.  For  example,  sup- 
pose 1  borrow  a  hundred  guineas  in  London,  where  each  guinea 
is  worth  one  and  twenty  shillings,  and  meet  my  creditor  in  the 
East  Indies,  where  a  guinea  is  worth  no  more  perhaps  than  nine- 
teen, is  it  a  satisfaction  of  the  debt  to  return  a  hundred  guineas; 
or  must  1  make  up  so  many  times  one  and  twenty  shillings  ?  I 
should  think  the  latter;  for  it  must  be  presumed,  that  my  credi- 
tor, had  he  not  lent  me  his  guineas,  would  have  disposed  of  them 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  have  now  had,  in  the  place  of  them,  so 
many  one  and  twenty  shillings;  and  the  question  supposes,  that 
he  neither  intended  nor  ought  to  be  a  sufferer,  by  parting  with 
the  possession  of  his  money  to  me. 

When  the  relative  value  of  coin  is  altered  by  an  act  of  the 
state,  if  the  alteration  would  have  extended  to  the  identical 
pieces  which  were  lent,  it  is  enough  to  return  an  equal  number  of 
pieces  of  the  same  denomination,  or  their  present  value  in  any 
other.  As  if  guineas  were  reduced  by  act  of  parliament  to  twenty 
shillings,  so  many  twenty  shillings,  as  1  borrowed  guineas,  would 
he  a  just  repayment.  It  would  be  otherwise,  if  the  reduction  was 
©wing  to  a  debasement  of  the  coin;  for  then  respeet  ought  to  be 
had  to  the  comparative  value  of  the  old  guinea  and  the  new. 

Whoever  borrows  money  is  bound  in  conscience  to  repay  it. 
This  every  man  can  see  ;  but  every  man  cannot  see,  or  does  not 
however  reflect,  that  he  is,  in  consequence,  also  bound  to  use  the 
means  necessary  to  enable  himself  to  repay  it.  "  If  he  pay  the 
money  when  he  has  it,  or  has  it  to  spare,  he  does  all  that  an  honest 
man  can  do,"  and  all,  he  imagines,  that  is  required  of  him ; 
whilst  the  previous  measures,  which  are  necessary  to  furnish  him 
with  that  money,  he  makes  no  part  of  his  care,  nor  observes  to 
he  as  inucn  his  duty  as  the  other;  such  as  selling  a  family  seat, 
or  a  family  estate,  contracting  his  plan  of  expense,  laying  down 
his  equipage,  reducing  the  number  of  his  servants,  or  any  of  those 
humiliating  sacrifices,  which  justice  requires  of  a  man  in  debt, 
the  moment  he  perceives  that  he  has  no  reasonable  prospect  of 
aying  his  debts  without  them.     An  expectation,  which  depends 

on  the  continuance  of  his  own  life,  will  not  satisfy  an  honest 
man,  if  a  better  provision  be  in  his  power ;  for  it  is  a  breach  of 
faith  to  subject  a  creditor,  when  we  can  help  it,  to  the  risk  of  our 
life,  be  the  event  what  it  will ;  that  not  being  the  security  te 
which  credit  was  given. 


CONTRACTS  CONCERNING  THE  LENDING  OP  MONEY.      j()8 

I  know  few  subjects  which  have  been  more  misunderstood,  than 
the  law  which  authorizes  the  imprisonment  of  insolvent  debtors. 
It  has  been  represented  as  a  gratuitous  cruelty,  which  contributed 
nothing  to  tile  reparation  of  the  creditor's  loss,  or  to  the  advan- 
tage of  the  community.     This  prejudice  arises  principally  from 
considering  the  sending  of  a  debtor  to  jail,  as  an  act  of  private 
satisfaction  to  the  creditor,  instead  of  a  public  punishment.     As 
an  act  of  satisfaction  or  revenge,  it  is  always  wrong  in  the  motive, 
and  often  intemperate  and  undistinguishing  in  the  exercise.     Con- 
aider  it  as  a  public  punishment;  founded  upon  the  same  reason, 
and  subject  to  the  same  rules,  as  other  punishments;  and  the  jus- 
tice of  it,  together  with  the  degree  to  which  it  should  be  extended, 
and  the  ohjeets  upon  whom  it  may  i>e  inflicted,  will  be  apparent. 
There  are  frauds  relating  to  insolvency,  against  which  it  is  as 
necessary  to  provide  punishment,  as  for  any  public  crimes  what- 
ever; as  where  a  man  gets  your  money  iiito  his  possession,  and 
forthwith  runs  away  with  it;  or,  what  is  little  better,  squanders 
it  in  vicious  expenses  ;  or  stakes  it  at  the  gaming  table ;  in  the 
alley;  or  upon  wild   adventures  in  trade;  or  is  conscious,  at  tha 
time  he  borrows  it,  that  he  can  never  repay  it;  or  wilfully  puts 
it  out  of  his  power  by  profuse  living  :  or  conceals  his  effects,  or 
transfers  them  by  collusion  to  another :  not  to  mention  the  obsti- 
nacy of  some  debtors,  who  had  rather  rot  in  a  jail,  than  deliver  up 
their  estates ;  for,  to  say  the  truth,  the  first  absurdity  is  in  the 
law  itself,  which  leaves  it  in  a  debtor's  power  to  withhold  any 
part  of  his  property  from  the  claim  of  his  creditors.     The  only 
question  is,  whether  the  punishment  be  properly  placed  in  the 
hands  of  an  exasperated  creditor  :  for  which  it  may  be  said,  that 
these  frauds  are  so  subtile  and  versatile,  that  nothing  but  a  dis- 
cretionary power  can_ overtake  them;  and  that  no  discretion  is 
likely  to  he  so  well  informed,  so  vigilant,  or  so  active,  as  that  of 
the  creditor. 

It  must  be  remembered  however,  that  the  confinement  of  a 
debtor  in  jail  is  a  punishment ;  and  that  every  punishment  sup- 
poses a  crime.  To  pursue  therefore,  with  the  extremity 
rigour,  a  sufferer,  whom  the  fraud  or  failure  of  others,  his 
want  of  capacity,  or  the  disappointments  and  miscarriages 
which  all  human  affairs  are  subject,  have  reduced  to  ruin,  merely 
because  we  are  provoked  by  our  loss,  and  seek  to  relieve  the  pain 
we  fe«l  by  that  which  we  inflict,  is  repugnant  not  only  to  human- 


104  SERVICE. 

ity,  but  to  justice  ;  for  it  is  to  pervert  a  provision  of  law,  design- 
ed for  a  different  and  a  salutary  purpose,  to  the  gratification  of 
private  spleen  and  resentment*  Any  alteration  in  these  laws, 
which  could  distinguish  the  degrees  of  guilt,  or  convert  the  ser- 
vice of  the  insolvent  debtor  to  some  public  profit,  might  be  an 
improvement ;  but  any  considerable  mitigation  of  their  rigour? 
under  colour  of  relieving  the  poor,  would  increase  their  hard- 
ships. For  whatever  deprives  the  creditor  of  his  power  of  coer- 
cion, deprives  him  of  his  security  ;  and  as  this  must  add  greatly 
to  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  credit,  the  poor,  especially  the  lower 
sort  of  tradesmen,  are  the  first  who  would  suffer  by  such  a  regu- 
lation. As  tradesmen  must  buy  before  they  sell,  you  would  ex- 
clude from  trade  two  thirds  of  those  who  now  carry  it  on,  if  none 
were  enabled  to  enter  into  it  without  a  capital  sufficient  for 
prompt  payments.  An  advocate,  therefore,  for  the  interests  of 
this  importaut  class  of  the  community,  will  deem  it  more  eligible, 
that  one  out  of  a  thousand  should  be  sent  to  jail  by  his  creditors, 
than  that  the  nine  hundred  and  ninety -nine  should  be  straight- 
ened, and  embarrassed,  and  many  of  them  lie  idle,  by  the  want 
of  credit. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
CONTRACTS  OF  LABOUR. 

SERVICE. 

SERVICE  in  this  country  is.  as  it  ought  to  be,  voluntary,  and 
by  contract;  and  the  master's  authority  extends  no  farther  than 
the  terms  or  equitable  construction  of  the  contract  will  justify. 

The  treatment  of  servants,  as  to  diet,  discipline,  and  accom- 
modation, the  kind  and  quantity  of  work  to  be  required  of  them, 
the  intermission,  liberty,  and  indulgence  to  be  allowed  them, 
must  be  determined  in  a  great  measure  by  custom ;  for  where 
the  contract  involves  so  many  particulars,  the  contracting  par- 
tie^;  express  a  few  perhaps  of  the  principal,  and,  by  mutual  un- 
derstanding, refer  the  rest  to  the  known  custom  of  the  country  in 
like  cases. 


SERVICE.  iOff 

I 

A  servant  is  not  bound  to  obey  tbe  unlawful  commands  of  his 
master ;  to  minister,  for  instance,  to  his  unlawful  pleasures  ;  or 
to  assist  him  by  unlawful  practices  in  his  profession  ;  as  in  smug- 
gling or  adulterating  the  articles  in  which  he  deals.  For  the 
servant  is  bound  by  nothing  but  his  own  promise  ;  and  the  obli- 
gation of  a  promise  extends  not  to  things  unlawful. 

For  the  same  reason,  the  master's  authority  is  no  justification 
of  the  servant  in  doing  wrong  ;  for  the  servant's  own  promise, 
upon  which  that  authority  is  founded,  would  be  none. 

Clerks  and  apprentices  ought  to  be  employed  entirely  in  the 
profession  or  trade  which  they  are  intended  to  learn.  Instruction 
is  their  hire  ;  and  to  deprive  them  of  the  opportunities  of  in- 
struction, by  taking  up  their  time  with  occupations  foreign  to 
their  business,  is  to  defraud  them  of  their  wages. 

The  master  is  responsible  for  what  a  servant  does  in  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  his  employment  ;  for  it  is  done  under  a  general 
authority  committed  to  him,  which  is  in  justice  equivalent  to  a 
specific  direction.  Thus,  if  1  pay  money  to  a  banker's  clerk,  the 
banker  is  accountable  ;  but  not  if  I  had  paid  it  to  his  butler  or 
his  footman,  whose  business  it  is  not  to  receive  money.  Upon 
the  same  principle,  if  I  once  send  a  servant  to  take  up  goods  upon 
credit,  whatever  goods  he  afterwards  takes  up  at  the  same  shop, 
so  long  as  he  continues  in  my  service,  are  justly  chargeable  to 
my  account. 

The  law  of  this  country  goes  great  lengths  in  intending  a  kind 
of  concurrence  in  the  master,  so  as  to  charge  him  with  the  conse- 
quences of  his  servant's  conduct.  If  an  inn-keeper's  servant  rob 
his  guests,  the  inn-keeper  must  make  restitution ;  if  a  farrier's  ser- 
vant lame  a  horse,  the  farrier  must  answer  for  the  damage  ;  and, 
still  farther,  if  your  coachman  or  carter  drive  over  a  passenger  in 
the  road,  the  passenger  may  recover  from  you  a  satisfaction  for 
the  hurt  he  suffers.  But  these  determinations  stand,  I  think, 
rather  upon  the  authority  of  the  law,  than  any  principle  of  nat- 
ural justice. 

There  is  a  carelessness  and  facility  in  "  giving  characters,"  as 
it  is  called,  of  servants,  especially  when  given  in  writing,  or  ac- 
cording to  some  established  form,  which,  to  speak  plainly  of  it, 
is  a  cheat  upon  those  who  accept  them.  They  are  given  with  so 
little  reserve  and  veracity,  "  that  I  should  as  soon  depend,"  says 
the  author  of  the  Rambler,  upon  an  acquittal  at  the  Old  Bailey, 
14* 


105  SERVICE. 

by  "  way  of  recommendation  of  a  servant's  honesty,  as  upon  one 
of  these  characters.''  It  is  sometimes  carelessness;  and  some- 
times also  to  get  rid  of  a  bad  servaut  without  the  uneasiness  of  a 
dispute  ;  for  which  nothing  can  be  pleaded  but  the  most  ungen- 
erous of  all  excuses,  that  the  person  whom  we  deceive  is  a  Mjan- 
ger. 

There  is  a  conduct  the  reverse  of  this,  but  more  injurious,  be- 
cause the  injury  falls  where  there  is  no  remedy  ;  I  mean  the  ob- 
structing of  a  servant's  advancement,  because  you  are  unwilling 
to  spare  his  service.  To  stand  in  the  way  of  your  servant's  in- 
terest, is  a  poor  return  for  his  fidelity  ;  and  affords  slender  en- 
couragement for  good  behaviour,  in  this  numerous  and  therefore 
important  part  of  the  community.  It  is  a  piece  of  injustice  which, 
if  practised  towards  an  equal,  the  law  of  honour  would  lay  hold 
of;  as  it  is,  it  is  neither  uncommon  nor  disreputable. 

A  master  of  a  family  is  culpable,  if  he  permit  any  vices  among 
his  domestics,  which  he  might  restrain  by  due  discipline  and  a 
proper  interference.  This  resulls  from  the  general  obligation  to 
prevent  misery  when  in  our  power  ;  and  the  assurance  which  we 
have,  that  vice  and  misery  at  the  long  run  go  together.  Care  to 
.maintain  in  his  family  a  sense  of  virtue  and  religion,  received  the 
divine  approbation  in  the  person  of  Abraham,  Gen.  xviii.  19. — 
"  1  know  him,  that  he  will  command  his  children,  and  his  house- 
hold after  him,;  and  they  shall  keep  the  way  of  the  Lord,  to  do 
justice  and  judgment.''  And  indeed  no  authority  seems  so  well 
adapted  to  this  purpose,  as  that  of  masteis  of  families  ;  because 
none  operates  upon  the*  subjects  of  it  with  an  influence  so  imme- 
diate and  constant. 

What  the  Christian  Scriptuj^sJjave  delivered  concerning  the 
relation  and  reciprocal  duties  owiasters  and  servants,  breathes  a 
spirit  of  liberality,  very  little  known  in  ages  when  servitude  was 
slavery  ;  and  which  flowed  from  a  habit  of  contemplating  man- 
kind under  the  common  relation  in  which  they  stand  to  their  Cre- 
ator, and  with  respect  to  their  interesjt  in  another  existence.* 
"  Servants,  be  obedient  to  them  that  are  your  masters,  according 
to  the  flesh,  with  fear  and  trembling  ;  in  singleness  of  your  heart, 
as  unto  Christ ;  not  with  eye-service,  as  men-pleasers,  but  as  the 
servants  of  Christ,  doing  the  will  of  God  from  the  heart ;  with 

*  Eph.  vi.  5—9. 


COMxMISSIONS.  107 

good  will,  doing  service  as  to  the  Lord,  and  not  to  men :  knowing 
that  whatsoever  good  thing  any  man  doth,  the  same  shall  he  re- 
ceive of  the  Lord,  whether  he  be  bond  or  free.  And  ye  masters, 
do  the  same  thing  unto  them,  forbearing  threatening ;  knowing 
that  your  Master  also  is  in  Heaven  ;  neither  is  there  respect  of 
persons  with  him."  The  idea  of  referring  their  service  to  God, 
of  considering  him  as  having  appointed  them  their  task,  that  they 
were  doing  his  will,  and  were  to  look  to  Aim  for  their  reward, 
was  new  ;  and  affords  a  greater  security  to  the  master  than  any 
inferiour  principle,  because  it  tends  to  produce  a  steady  and  cor- 
dial obedience,  in  the  place  of  that  constrained  service,  which 
can  never  be  trusted  out  of  sight,  and  which  is  justly  enough 
called  eye-serviee.  The  exhortation  to  masters,  to  keep  in  view 
their  own  subjection  and  accountableness,  was  no  less  seasonable. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CONTRACTS  OF  LABOUR. 

COMMISSIONS. 

WHOEVER  undertakes  another  man's  business  makes  it  his 
own,  that  is,  promises  to  employ  upon  it  the  same  care,  attention, 
and  diligence,  that  he  would  do  if  it  were  actually  his  own  :  for 
he  knows  that  the  business  was  committed  to  him  with  that  ex- 
pectation. And  he  promise^j^hing  more  than  this.  Therefore 
an  agent  is  not  obliged  to  ^fm,  inquire,  solicit,  ride  about  (lie 
country,  toil,  or  study,  whilst  there  remains  a  possibility  of  bene- 
fiting his  employer.  If  he  exert  so  much  of  his  activity,  and  use 
such  caution,  as  the  value  of  the  business,  in  his  judgment,  de- 
serves ;  that  is,  as  he  would  have  thought  sufficient,  if  the  same 
interest  of  his  own  had  been  at  stake,  he  has  discharged  his  duty, 
although  it  should  afterwards  turn  out,  that  by  more  activity,  and 
longer  perseverance,  he  might  have  concluded  the  business  with 
greater  advantage. 

This  rule  defines  the  duty  of  factors,  stewards,  attorneys,  and 
advocates* 


|08  COMMISSIONS. 

One  of  the  chief  difficulties  of  an  agent's  situation  is,  to  knoiv 
how  far  he  may  depart  from  his  instructions,  when,  from  some 
change  or  discovery  in  the  circumstances  of  his  commission,  he 
sees  reason  to  believe  that  his  employer,  if  he  were  present,  would 
alter  his  intention.  The  latitude  allowed  to  agents  in  this  re- 
spect will  he  different,  according  as  the  commission  was  confiden- 
tial or  ministerial ;  and  according  as  the  general  rule  and  nature 
of  the  service  require  a  prompt  and  precise  obedience  to  orders, 
or  not.  An  attorney  sent  to  treat  for  an  estate,  if  he  found  out  a 
flaw  in  the  title,  would  desist  from  proposing  the  price  he  was 
directed  to  propose  ;  and  very  properly.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
the  commander  in  chief  of  an  army  detach  an  officer  under  him 
upon  a  particular  service,  which  service  turns  out  more  difficult, 
or  less  expedient,  than  was  supposed,  insomuch  that  the  officer  is 
convinced  that  his  commander,  if  he  were  acquainted  with  the 
true  state  in  which  the  affair  is  found,  would  recall  his  orders  ; 
yet  must  this  officer,  if  he  cannot  wait  for  fresh  directions  without 
prejudice  to  the  expedition  he  is  sent  upon,  pursue,  at  all  hazards, 
those  which  he  brought  out  with  him. 

What  is  trusted  to  an  agent  may  be  lost  or  damaged  in  his 
hands  by  misfortune.  An  agent  who  acts  without  pay  is  clearly 
not  answerable  for  the  loss?  for,  if  he  give  his  labour  for  nothing, 
it  cannot  be  presumed  that  he  gave  also  security  for  the  success 
of  it.  If  the  agent  be  hired  to  the  business,  the  question  will  de- 
pend upon  the  apprehension  of  the  parties  at  the  time  of  making 
the  contract :  which  apprehension  of  theirs  must  be  collected 
chiefly  from  custom,  by  which  probably  it  was  guided.  Whether 
a  public  carrier  ought  to  account  for  goods  sent  by  him  ;  the 
owner  or  master  of  a  ship  for  thaqrargo  ;  the  post  office  for  let- 
ters, or  bills  inclosed  in  letters,  where  the  loss  is  not  imputed  to 
any  fault  or  neglect  of  theirs  ;  are  questions  of  this  sort.  Any 
expression,  which  by  implication  amounts  to  a  promise,  will  be 
binding  upon  the  agent,  without  custom  ;  as  where  the  proprie- 
tors of  a  stage-coach  advertise,  that  they  will  not  be  accountable 
for  money,  plate,  or  jewels,  this  makes  them  accountable  for  every 
thing  else  ;  or  where  the  price  is  too  much  for  the  labour,  part  of 
it  may  be  considered  as  a  premium  for  insurance.  On  the  other 
hand,  any  caution  on  the  part  of  the  owner  to  guard  against  dan- 
ger, is  evidence  that  he  considers  the  risk  to  be  his  ;  as  cutting 
%  bank  bill  in  two,  to  send  by  the  post  at  different  times. 


PARTNERSHIP. 


109 


Universally,  unless  a  promise,  either  express  or  tacit,  can  be 
proved  against  the  agent,  l lie  loss  must  fail  upon  the  owner. 

The  agent  may  be  a  sufferer  in  his  own  person  or  property  by 
the  business  which  he  undertakes  ;  «s  where  one  goes  a  journey 
for  another,  and  lames  his  horse,  or  is  hurt  himself,  by  a  fall 
upon  the  road;  can  the  agent  in  such  case  claim  a  compensation 
for  the  misfortune  ?  Unless  the  same  be  provided  for  by  express 
stipulation,  the  agent  is  not  entitled  to  any  compensation  from 
his  employer  on  that  account  :  for  where  the  danger  is  not  fore- 
seen, there  can  be  no  reason  to  believe,  that  the  employer  engag- 
ed to  indemnify  the  agent  against  it  :  still  less  where  it  is  fore- 
seen :  for  whoever  knowingly  undertakes  a  dangerous  employ- 
ment, in  common  construction,  takes  upon  himself  the  danger 
and  the  consequences;  as  where  a  fireman  undertakes  for  a  re- 
ward to  rescue  a  box  of  writings  from  the  flames  ;  or  a  sailor  to 
bring  off  a  passenger  from  a  ship  in  a  storm. 


CHAPTER  XIH. 
CONTRACTS  OF  LABOUR. 

PARTNERSHIP. 

I  KNOW  nothing  upon  the  subject  of  partnership  that  requires 
explanation,  but  in  what  manner  the  profits  are  to  be  divided, 
where  one  partner  contributes  money,  and  the  other  labour  ; 
which  is  a  common  case. 

Rule.  From  the  stock  of  the  partnership  deduct  the  sum  ad- 
vanced, and  divide  the  remainder  between  the  monied  partner 
and  the  labouring  partner,  in  the  proportion  of  the  interest  of  the 
money  to  the  wages  of  the  labourer,  allowing  such  a  rate  of  in- 
terest as  money  might  be  borrowed  for  upon  the  same  security, 
and  such  wages  as  a  journeyman  would  require  for  the  same  la- 
hour  and  trust. 

Example.  A,  advances  a  thousand  pounds,  but  knows  nothing 
of  the  business;  B,  produces  no  money,  but  has  been  brought  up 
to  the  business,  and  undertakes  to  conduct  it.  At  the  end  of  the 
year  the  stock,  and  effects  of  the  partnership  amount  to  twelve 


HO  OFFICES. 

hundred  pounds ;  consequently  there  are  two  hundred  pounds  to 
be  divided.  Now,  nobody  would  lend  money  upon  the  event  of 
the  business  succeeding,  which  is  A's  security,  under  six  per  cent. 
— therefore  A  must  be  allowed  sixty  pounds  for  the  interest  of 
his  money.  B,  before  he  engaged  in  the  partnership,  earned 
thirty  pounds  a  year  in  the  same  employment ;  his  labour  there- 
fore ought  to  be  valued  at  thirty  pounds ;  and  the  two  hundred 
pounds  must  be  divided  between  the  partners,  in  the  proportion 
of  sixty  to  thirty ;  that  is,  A  must  receive  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
three  pounds  six  shillings  and  eight  pence,  and  B  sixty-six  pounds 
thirteen  shillings  and  four  pence. 

If  there  be  nothing  gained,  A  loses  his  interest,  and  B  his 
labour:  which  is  right.  If  the  original  stock  be  diminished,  by 
this  rule  B  loses  only  his  labour,  as  before  ;  whereas  A  loses  his 
interest,  and  part  of  the  principal ;  for  which  eventual  disadvan- 
tage A  is  compensated,  by  having  the  interest  of  his  money  com- 
puted at  six  per  cent,  in  the  division  of  the  profits,  when  there 
are  any. 

It  is  true,  that  the  division  of  the  profit  is  seldom  forgotten  in 
the  constitution  of  the  partnership,  and  is  therefore  commonly 
settled  by  express  agreements  :  but  these  agreements,  to  be  equita- 
ble, should  pursue  the  principle  of  the  rule  here  laid  down. 

All  the  partners  are  bound  to  what  any  one  of  them  does  in 
the  course  of  the  business ;  for,  quoad  hoc,  each  partner  is  con- 
sidered as  an  authorized  agent  for  the  rest. 


CHAPTER  XIT. 
•     GONTRJ1CTS  OF  LABOUR. 

OFFICES. 

IN  many  offices,  as  schools,  fellowships  of  colleges,  professor- 
ships of  the  universities,  and  the  like,  there  is  a  two  fold  con- 
tract, one  with  the  founder,  the  other  witkthe  electors. 

The  contract  with  the  founder  obliges  the  incumbent  of  the 
office  to  discharge  every  duty  appointed  by  the  charter,  statutes, 
deed  of  gift,  or  will  of  the  founder ;  because  the  endowment  was 


OFFICES.  HI 

given,  and  consequently  excepted  for  that  purpose,  and  upon 
those  conditions. 

The  contract  with  the  electors  extends  this  obligation  to  all 
duties  that  have  been  customarily  connected  with  and  reckoned  a 
part  of  the  office,  though  not  prescribed  by  the  founder:  for  the 
electors  expect  from  the  person  they  choose  all  the  duties  which 
his  predecessors  have  discharged  ;  and  as  the  person  elected 
cannot  be  ignorant  of  their  expectation,  if  he  meant  to  have  re- 
fused this  condition,  he  ought  to  have  apprized  them  of  his 
objection. 

And  here  let  it  be  observed,  that  the  electors  can  excuse  the 
conscience  of  the  person  elected  from  this  last  class  of  duties 
alone;  because  this  class  results  from  a  contract,  to  which  the 
electors  and  the  person  elected  are  the  only  parties.  The  other 
class  of  duties  results  from  a  different  contract. 

It  is  a  question  of  some  magnitude  and  difficulty,  what  offices 
may  be  conscientiously  supplied  by  a  deputy. 

We  will  state  the  several  objections  to  the  substitution  of  a 
deputy :  and  then  it  will  be  understood,  that  a  deputy  may  be 
allowed  in  all   cases  to  which  these  objections  do  not  apply. 

An  office  may  not  be  discharged  by  deputy, 

1.  Where  a  particular  confidence  is  reposed  in  the  judgment 
and  conduct  of  the  person  appointed  to  it ;  as  the  office  of  a  stew- 
ard, guardian,  judge,  commander  in  chief,  by  land  or  sea. 

2.  Where  the  custom  hinders  ;  as  in  the  case  of  school- 
masters, tutors,  and  of  commissions  in  the  army  or  navy. 

3.  Where  the  duty  cannot,  from  its  nature,  be  so  well  per- 
formed by  a  deputy;  as  the  deputy  governor  of  a  province  may 
not  possess  the  legal  authority,  or  the  actual  influence,  of  his 
principal. 

4.  When  some  inconveniency  would  result  to  the  service  in  gen- 
eral from  the  permission  of  deputies  in  such  cases  :  for  example, 
it  is  probable  that  military  merit  would  be  much  discouraged,  if 
the  duties  belonging  to  commissions  in  the  army  were  generally 
allowed  to  be  executed  by  substitutes. 

The  non-residence  of  the  parochial  clergy,  who  supply  the  duty 
of  their  benefices  by  curates,  is  worthy  of  a  more  distinct  con- 
sideration. And  in  order  to  draw  the  question  upon  this  case  to 
a  point,  we  will  suppose  the  officiating  curate  to  discharge  every 
duty  which  his  principal,  were  he  present,  would  be  bound  to 


£  |*J  ,  OFFICES. 

discharge,  and  in  a  manner  equally  beneficial  to  the  parish  :  un= 
der  which  circumstauees,  the  only  objection  to  the  absence  of  the 
principal,  at  least  the  only  one  of  the  foregoing  objections,  is  the 
last. 

And,  in  my  judgment,  the  force  of  this  objection  will  be  much 
diminished,  if  the  absent  rector  or  vicar  be,  in  the  mean  time, 
engaged  in  any  function  or  employment  of  equal,  or  of  greater 
importance  to  the  general  interest  of  religion.  For  the  whole 
revenue  of  the  national  church  may  properly  enough  be  consid- 
ered as  a  common  fund  for  the  support  of  the  national  religion  ; 
and  if  a  clergyman  be  serving  the  cause  of  Christianity  and  pro- 
testantism, it  can  make  little  difference,  out  of  what  particular 
portion  of  this  fund,  that  is,  by  the  tythes  and  glebe  of  what  par- 
ticular parish,  his  service  be  requited;  any  more  than  it  can 
prejudice  the  king's  service  that  an  officer  who  has  signalized 
his  merit  in  America,  should  be  rewarded  with  the  government  of 
a  fort  or  castle  in  Ireland,  which  he  never  saw  :  but  for  the  cus- 
tody of  which  proper  provision  is  made,  and  care  taken. 

Upon  the  principle  thus  explained,  this  indulgence  is  due  to 
none  more  than  to  those  who  are  occupied  in  cultivating  or  com- 
municating religious  knowledge,  or  the  scieuces  subsidiary  to 
religion. 

This  way  of  considering  the  revenues  of  the  church  as  a  com- 
mon fund  for  the  same  purpose,  is  the  more  equitable,  as  the 
value  of  particular  preferments  bears  no  proportion  to  the  par- 
ticular charge  or  labour. 

But  when  a  man  draws  up  this  fund,  whose  studies  and  em- 
ployments hear  no  relation  to  the  object  of  it ;  and  who  is  no 
further  a  minister  of  the  Christian  religion,  than  as  a  cockade 
makes  a  soldier,  it  seems  a  misapplication  little  better  than  a 
robbery. 

And  to  those  who  have  the  management  of  such  matters  I  sub- 
mit this  question,  whether  the  impoverishment  of  the  fund,  by 
converting  the  best  share  of  it  into  annuities  for  the  gay  and  illit- 
erate youth  of  great  families,  threatens  not  to  starve  and  stifle 
the  little  clerical  merit  that  is  left  amongst  us? 

All  legal  dispensations  from  residence  proceed  upon  the  sup- 
position, that  the  absentee  is  detained  from  his  living  by  some 
engagement  of  equal  or  of  greater  public  importance.  Therefore, 
if  in  a  case  where  no  such  reason  can  with  truth  be  pleaded,  it 


#    LIES.  41S 

be  said  that  this  question  regards  a  right  of  property,  and  that 
all  right  of  property  awaits  the*  disposition  of  law ;  that, 
therefore,  if  the  law,  which  gives  a  man  the  emoluments  of  a 
living,  excuse  him  from  residing  upon  it,  he  is  excused  in  con- 
science ;  we  answer,  that  the  law  does  not  excuse  him  by  inten- 
tion, and  that  all  other  excuses  are  fraudulent. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LIES. 

A  LIE  is  a  breach  of  promise ;  for  whoever  seriously  addresses  jDelt^tcot 
his  discourse  to  another,  tacitly  promises  to  speak  the  truth,  be- 
cause he  knows  that  the  truth  is  expected. 

Or  the  obligation  of  veracity  may  be  made  out  from  the  direct 
ill  consequences  of  lying  to  social  happiness.  Which  consequen- 
ces consist,  either  in  some  specific  injury  to  particular  individuals, 
or  in  the  destruction  of  that  confidence,  which  is  essential  to  the 
intercourse  of  human  life:  for  which  latter  reason,  a  lie  may  be 
pernicious  in  its  general  tendency,  and  therefore  criminal,  though 
it  produce  no  particular  or  visible  mischief  to  any  one. 

There  are  falsehoods  which  are  not  lies ;  that  is,  which  are 
not  criminal ;  as, 

1.  Where  no  one  is  deceived ;  which  is  the  case  in  parables, 
fables,  novels,  jests,  tales  to  create  mirth,  ludicrous  embellish- 
ments of  a  story,  where  the  declared  design  of  the  speaker  is  not 
to  inform,  but  to  divert;  compliments  in  the  subscription  of  aA 
letter,  a  servant's  denying  his  master,  a  prisoner's  pleading  not 
guilty,  an  advocate  asserting  the  justice,  or  his  belief  of  the  jus- 
tice of  his  client's  cause.  In  such  instances  no  confidence  is  des- 
troyed, because  none  was  reposed  ;  no  promise  to  speak  the  truth 
is  violated  because  none  was  given,  or  understood  to  be  given. 

2.  Where  the  person  to  whom  you  speak  has  no  right  to  know 
the  truth,  or,  more  properly,  where  little  or  no  inconveniency  re- 
sults from  the  want  of  confidence  in  such  cases;  as  where  you 
tell  a  falsehood  to  a  madman,  for  his  own  advantage  ;  to  a  rob- 
ber to  conceal  your  property  ;  to  an  assassin,  to  defeat  or  to  divert 

15 


114  lies. 

him  from  his  purpose.  The  particular  eonsequence  is  by  the 
supposition  beneficial ;  and,  as  to  the  general  consequence,  the 
worst  that  can  happen  is,  that  the  madman,  the  robber,  the  as- 
sassin, will  not  trust  you  again;  which  (beside  that  the  first  is 
incapable  of  deducing  regular  conclusions  from  having  been  once 
deceived,  and  the  two  last  not  likely  to  come  a  second  time  in 
your  way)  is  sufficiently  compensated  by  the  immediate  benefit 
which  you  propose  by  the  falsehood. 

It  is  upon  this  principle,  that,  by  the  laws  of  war,  it  is  allowed 
to  deceive  an  enemy  by  feints,  false  colours,*  spies,  false  intelli- 
gence, and  the  like;  but  by  no  means  in  treaties,  truces,  signals 
of  capitulation,  or  surrender  :  and  the  difference  is,  that  tht 
former  suppose  hostilities  to  continue,  the  latter  are  calculated  to 
terminate  or  suspend  them.  In  the  conduct  of  war,  and  whilst 
the  war  continues,  there  is  no  use,  or  rather  no  place,  for  confi- 
dence betwixt  the  contending  parties ;  but  in  whatever  relates  to 
the  termination  of  war,  the  most  religious  fidelity  is  expected, 
because  without  it  wars  could  not  cease,  nor  the  victors  be  secure, 
hut  by  the  entire  destruction  of  the  vanquished. 

Many  people  indulge,  in  serious  discourse,  a  habit  of  fiction 
and  exaggeration,  in  the  accounts  they  give  of  themselves,  of  their 
acquaintance,  or  of  the  extraordinary  things  which  they  have 
seen  or  heard  ;  and  so  long  as  the  facts  they  relate  are  indifferent, 
and  their  narratives,  though  false,  are  inoffensive,  it  may  seem  a 
superstitious  regard  to  truth,  to  censure  them  merely  for  truth's 
sake. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  pronounce  before- 
hand, with  certainty,  concerning  any  lie,  that  it  is  inoffensive. 
Volat  irrevocabile  ;  and  collects  sometimes  accretions  in  its  flight, 
which  entirely  change  its  nature.  It  may  owe  possibly  its  mis- 
chief to  the  officiousness  or  misrepresentation  of  those  wbo  circu- 
late it;  but  the  mischief  is,  nevertheless,  in  some  degree  charge- 
able upon  the  original  editor. 

*  There  have  been  two  or  three  instances  of  late,  of  English  ships  decoying 
an  enemy  into  their  power,  by  counterfeiting  signals  of  distress  ;  an  artifice 
which  ought  to  be  reprobated  by  the  common  indignation  of  mankind :  for  a 
few  examples  of  captures  effected  by  this  stratagem,  would  put  an  end  to  that 
promptitude  in  affording  assistance  to  ships  in  distress,  which  is  the  best 
virtue  in  a  seafaring  character,  and  by  which  the  perils  of  navigation  are  di- 
minished to  all.     A.  D.  1775. 


LIES.  110 

la  the  next  place,  this  liberty  in  conversation  defeats  its  own 
«nd.  Much  of  the  pleasure,  and  all  the  benefit  of  conversation, 
depends  upon  our  opinion  of  the  speaker's  veracity ;  for  which 
this  rule  leaves  no  foundation.  The  faith  indeed  of  a  hearer 
must  be  extremely  perplexed,  who  considers  the  speaker,  or  be- 
lieves that  the  speaker  considers  himself,  as  under  no  obligation 
to  adhere  to  truth,  but  according  to  the  particular  importance  of 
what  he  relates. 

But  beside  and  above  both  these  reasons,  ivhite  lies  always  in- 
troduce others  of  a  darker  complexion.  I  have  seldom  known 
any  one  who  deserted  truth  in  trifles,  that  could  be  trusted  in  mat- 
ters of  importance.  Nice  distinctions  are  out  of  the  question,  upon 
occasions  which,  like  those  of.speech,  return  every  hour.  The 
habit,  therefore  of  lying,  when  once  formed,  is  easily  extended 
to  serve  the  designs  of  malice  or  interest  5  like  all  habits,  it 
spreads  indeed  of  itself. 

Pious  frauds,  as  they  are  improperly  enough  called,  pretended 
inspirations,  forged  books,  counterfeit  miracles,  are  impositions 
of  a  more  serious  nature.  It  is  possible  that  they  may  sometimes, 
though  seldom,  have  been  set  up  and  encouraged,  with  a  design 
to  do  good  :  but  the  good  they  aim  at,  requires  that  the  belief  of 
them  should  be  perpetual,  which  is  hardly  possible ;  and  the 
detection  of  the  fraud  is  sure  to  disparage  the  credit  of  /.all 
pretensions  of  the  same  nature.  Christianity  has  suffered  more 
injury  from  this  cause,  than  from  all  other  causes  put  together. 

As  there  m'ay  be  falsehoods  which  are  not  lies,  so  there  may 
be  lies  without  literal  or  direct  falsehood.  An  opening  is  al- 
ways left  fbf  this  species  of  prevarication,  when  the  literal  and 
grammatical  signification  of  a  sentence  is  different  from  the  pop- 
ular and  customary  meaning.  It  is  the  wilful  deceit  that  makes 
the  lie ;  and  we  wilfully  deceive,  when  our  expressions  are  not 
true  in  the  sense  in  which  we  believe  the  hearer  to  apprehend 
them  :  besides,  that  it  is  absurd  to  contend  for  any  sense  of  words, 
in  opposition  to  usage ;  for  all  senses  of  all  words  are  founded 
upon  usage,  and  upon  nothing  else. 

Or  a  man  may  act  a  lie  ;  as  by  pointing  his  finger  in  a  wrong 
direction  when  a  traveller  inquires  of  him  his  road ;  or  when  a 
tradesman  shuts  up  his  windows,  to  induce  his  creditors  to  be- 
lieve that  he  is  abroad :  for  to  all  moral  purposes,  and  therefore 


\ 


a 


116  OATHS. 

as  to  veracity,  speech  and  action  are  the  same ;  speech  beio 
only  a  mode  of  action. 

Or,  lastly,  there  may  be  lies  of  omission.  A  writer  of  English 
history,  who,  in  his  account  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  First, 
should  wilfully  suppress  any  evidence  of  that  prince's  despotic 
measures  and  designs,  might  be  said  to  lie ;  for  by  entitling 
his  book  a  History  of  England,  he  engages  to  relate  the  whole 
truth  of  the  history,  or  at  least,  all  that  he  knows  of  it. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

OATHS. 

I.  FORMS  of  Oaths. 

II.  Signification. 

III.  Lawfulness. 

IV.  Obligation. 

V.  What  Oaths  do  not  bind. 

VI.  In  what  Sense  Oaths  are  to  be  interpreted. 

I.  The  forms  of  oaths,  like  other  religious  ceremonies,  have  in 
all  ages  been  various  ;  consisting  however  for  the  most  part,  of 
some  bodily  action,*  and  of  a  prescribed  form  of  words.  Amongst 
the  Jews,  the  juror  held  up  his  right  hand  towards  heaven, 
which  explains  a  passage  in  the  144th  Psalm,  "  whose  mouth 
speaketh  vanity,  and  their  right  hand,  is  a  right  hand  of  false- 
hood."  The  same  form  is  retained  in  Scotland  still.  Amongst 
the  same  Jews,  an  oath  of  fidelity  was  taken,  by  the  servant's 
putting  his  hand  under  the  thigh  of  his  lord,  as  Eliezer  did  to 
Abraham,  Gen.  xxiv.  2 ;  from  whence,  with  no  great  variation, 
is  derived  perhaps  the  form  of  doing  homage  at  this  day,  by 
putting  the  hand  between  the  knees,  and  within  the  hands  of  the 
liege. 

*  It  is  commonly  thought  that  oaths  are  denominated  corporeal  oaths  from 
the  bodily  action  which  accompanies  them,  of  laying  the  light  hand  upon  a 
book  containing  the  four  Gospels.  This  opinion,  however,  appears  to  be  a 
mistake ;  for  the  term  is  borrowed  from  the  ancient  usage  of  touching,  upon 
these  occasions,  the  corforak,  or  cloth  which  covered  the  consecrated  eie. 
ments. 


OATHS. 


117 


Amongst  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  the  form  varied  with  the 
subject  and  occasion  of  the  oath.  In  private  contracts,  the  par- 
ties took  hold  of  each  other's  hand,  whilst  they  swore  to  the 
performance  5  or  they  touched  the  altar  of  the  god,  by  whose 
divinity  they  swore.  Upon  more  solemn  occasions,  it  was  the 
custom  to  slay  a  victim  ;  and  the  beast  being  struck  down,  with 
certain  ceremonies  and  invocations,  gave  birth  to  the  expressions 
Ttpvitv  6gxov,ferire  pactum  ;  and  to  our  English  phrase,  translated 
from  these,  of   "  striking  a  bargain.'' 

The  forms  of  oaths  in  Christian  countries  are  also  very  differ- 
ent; but  in  np  country  in  the  world,  I  believe,  worse  contrived, 
either  to  convey  the  meauing,  or  impress  the  obligation  of  an 
oath,  than  in  our  own.  The  juror  with  us,  after  repeating  the 
promise  or  affirmation  which  the  oath  is  intended  to  confirm, 
adds,  "  so  help  me  God  :"  or  more  frequently  the  substance  of 
the  oath  is  repeated  to  the  juror  by  the  officer  or  magistrate  who 
administers  it,  adding  in  the  conclusion,  "so  help  you  God." 
The  energy  of  the  sentence  resides  in  the  particle  so  ;  so,  that  is, 
hac  lege,  upon  condition  of  my  speaking  the  truth,  or  performing 
this  promise,  and  not  otherwise,  may  God  help  me.  The  juror, 
whilst  he  hears  or  repeats  the  words  of  the  oath,  holds  his  right 
hand  upon  a  Bible,  or  other  book  containing  1  he  four  Gospels. 
The  conclusion  of  the  oath  sometimes  runs,  "  ita  me  Deus  adju- 
vet,  et  hsec  sancta  evangelia,'"  or  "  so  help  me  God,  and  the  con- 
tents of  this  book  ;"  which  last  clause  forms  a  connexion  between 
the  words  and  action  of  the  juror,  that  before  was  wanting.  The 
juror  then  kisses  the  book :  the  kiss,  however,  seems  rather  an 
act  of  reverence  to  the  contents  of  the  book,  as.  in  the  popish 
ritual,  the  priest  kisses  the  Gospel  before  he  reads  it,  than  any 
part  of  the  oath. 

This  obscure  and  elliptical  form  togelher  with  the  levity  and 
frequency  with  which  it  is  administered,  has  brought  about  a 
general  inadvertency  to  the  obligation  of  oaths,  which  both  in  a 
religious  and  political  view,  is  much  to  be  lamented  :  and  it 
merits  public  consideration,  whether  the  requiring  of  oaths  on  so 
many  frivolous  occasions,  especially  in  the  customs,  and  in  the 
qualification  for  petty  offices,  has  any  other  effect,  than  to  make 
them  cheap  in  the  minds  of  the  people.  A  pound  of  tea  cannot 
travel  regularly  from  the  ship  to  the  consumer,  without  costing 
half  a  dozen  oaths  at  the  least :  and  the  same  security  for  the  due 


118  OATHS. 

discharge  of  their  office,  namely,  that  of  an  oath,  is  required 
from  a  church-warden  and  an  archbishop,  from  a  petty  constable 
and  the  chief  justice  of  England.  Let  the  law  continue  its  own 
sanctions,  if  they  be  thought  requisite  ;  but  let  it  spare  the  solem- 
nity of  an  oath.  And  where,  from  the  want  of  something  better 
to  depend  upon,  it  is  necessary  to  accept  men's  own  word  or  own 
account,  let  it  annex  to  prevarication  penalties  proportioned  to 
the  public  mischief  of  the  offence. 

II.  But  whatever  be  the  form  of  an  oath,  the  signification  is 
the  same.  It  is  "  the  calling  upon  God  to  witness,  i.  e.  to  take 
notice  of  what  we  say,"  and  it  is  "  invoking  his  vengeance,  or 
renouncing  his  favour,  if  what  we  say  be  false,  or  what  we  prom- 
ise be  not  performed." 

III.  Quakers  and  Moravians  refuse  to  swear  upon  any  occasion  j 
founding  their  scruples  concerning  the  lawfulness  of  oaths  upon 
our  Saviour's  prohibition,  Matt.  v.  34*.  "  I  say  unto  you,  Swear 
not  at  all." 

The  answer  which  we  give  to  this  objection  cannot  be  under- 
stood, without  first  stating  the  whole  passage:  "  Ye  have  heard 
that  it  hatb  been  said  by  them  of  old  time,  Thou  shalt  not  for- 
swear thyself,  but  shalt  perform  unto  the  Lord  thine  oaths. 
But  I  sav  unto  you,  Swear  not  at  all ;  neither,  by  sheaven,  for  it  is 
God's  throne  ;  uor  by  the  earth,  for  it  is  his  footstool ;  neither  by 
Jerusalem,  for  it  is  tbe  city  of  the  great  King.  Neither  shalt 
thou  swear  by  thy  head,  because  thou  canst  not  make  one  hair 
white  or  black.  But  let  your  communication  be  Yea,  yea;  Nay, 
nay ;  for  whatsoever  is  more  than  these  cometh  of  evil.'' 

To  reconcile  with  this  passage  of  scripture  the  practice  of 
swearing,  or  of  taking  oaths,  when  required  by  law,  the  following 
observations  must  be  attended  to. 

1.  It  does  not  appear,  that  swearing  "  by  heaven,"  a  by  the 
earth,"  "  by  Jerusalem,"  or  "  by  their  own  head,"  was  a  form 
of  swearing  ever  made  use  of  amongst  the  Jews  in  judicial  oaths  : 
and,  consequently,  it  is  uoi  probable  that  they  were  judicial  oaths, 
which  Christ  had  in  his  mind  when  he  mentioned  tbose  instances. 

2.  As  to  the  seeming  universality  of  the  prohibition,  "  Swear 
not  at  all,"  the  emphatic  clause  "not  at  all,"  is  to  be  read  in 
connexion  with  what  follows  ;  "  not  at  all,"  i.  e.  neither  "  by  the 
heaven,"  nor  "  by  the  earth''  uor  "  by  Jerusalem,"  nor  "  by  thy 
head :"  "  not  at  aW  does  not  mean  upon  no  occasion,  but  by  non* 


OATHS.  119 

ef  these  forms.  Our  Saviour's  argument  seems  to  suppose,  that 
the  people  to  whom  he  spake,'  made  a  distinction  between  swear- 
ing directly  by  the  '•  name  of  God"  and  swearing  by  those  infe- 
riour  objects  of  veneration,  "  the  heavens,''  "  the  earth,''  "  Jeru- 
salem," or  "  their  own  head."  In  opposition  to  which  distinction  he 
tells  them,  that,  on  account  of  the  relation  which  these  things  bore 
to  the  Supreme  Being,  to  swear  by  any  of  them,  was  in  effect  and 
substance  to  swear  by  him;  "by  heaven,  for  it  is  his  throne;  by 
the  earth,  for  it  is  his  footstool  :by  Jerusalem,  for  it  is  the  city 
of  the  great  King  ;  by  thy  head,  for  it  is  Ms  workmanship,  not 
thine,  thou  canst  not 'make  one  hair  white  or  black,"  for  which 
reason  he  says,  "  Swear  not  at  all"  that  is,  neither  directly  by 
God,  nor  indirectly  by  any  thing  related  to  him.  This  interpre- 
tation is  greatly  confirmed,  by  a  passage  in  the  twenty-third 
chapter  of  the  same  Gospel,  where  a  similar  distinction,  made 
by  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  is  replied  to  in  the  same  manner. 

3.  Our  Saviour  himself  being  "  adjured  by  the  living  God,*'  to 
declare  whether  he  was  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  or  not,  con- 
descended to  answer  the  high  priest,  without  making  any  objec- 
tion to  the  oath  (for  such  it  was)  upon  which  he  examined  him. 
u  God  is  my  witness,"  says  St.  Paul  to  the  Romans,  "  that  with- 
out ceasing  I  make  mention  of  you  in  my  prayers :"  and  to  the 
Corinthians  still  more  strongly,  "  I call  God  for  a  record  upon 
my  soul,  that,  to  spare  you,  1  came  not  as  yet  to  Corinth.''  Both 
these  expressions  contain  the  nature  of  oaths.  The  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  speaks  of  the  custom  of  swearing  judicially,  without 
any  mark  of  censure  or  disapprobation  :  "  Men  verily  swear  by 
the  greater ;  and  an  oath,  for  confirmation,  is  to  them  an  end  of 
all  strife." 

Upon  the  strength  of  these  reasons,  we  explain  our  Saviour's 
words  to  relate,  not  to  judicial  oaths,  but  to  the  practice  of  vain, 
wanton,  and  unauthorized  swearing  in  common  discourse.  St. 
James'  words,  chap.  v.  12,  are  not  so  strong  as  our  Saviour's,  and 
therefore  admit  the  same  explanation  with  more  ease. 

IV.  Oaths  are  nugatory,  that  is,  carry  with  them  no  proper 
force  or  obligation,  unless  we  believe  that  God  will  punish  false 
swearing  with  more  severity  than  a  simple  lie,  or  breach  of  prom- 
ise; for  which  belief  there  are  the  following  reasons  : 

1.  Perjury  is  a  sin  of  greater  deliberation.  The  juror  has  the 
thought  of  God  and  of  religion  upon  his   mind  at  the   time :  at 


Fl 


120  OATHS. 

least  there  are  very  few  who  can  shake  them  off  entirely.  He  of- 
fends therefore,  if  he  do  offend,  with  a  high  hand ;  in  the  face, 
that  is,  and  in  defiance  of  the  sanctions  of  religion.  His  offence 
implies  a  disbelief  or  eontempt  of  God's  knowledge,  power,  and 
justice  ;  which  cannot  be  said  of  a  lie,  where  there  is  nothing  to 
carry  the  mind  to  any  reflection  upon  the  Deity,  or  the  divine 
attributes  at  all. 

2.  Perjury  violates  a  superiour  confidence.  Mankind  must 
trust  to  one  another ;  and  they  have  nothing  better  to  trust  to  than 
one  another's  oath.  Hence  legal  adjudications,  which  govern  and 
aflvct  every  right  and  interest  on  this  side  of  the  grave,  of  neces- 
sity proceed  and  depend  upon  oaths.  Perjury,  therefore,  in  its 
general  consequence,  strikes  at  the  security  of  reputation,  prop- 
erty, and  even  of  life  itself.  A  lie  cannot  do  the  same  mischief, 
because  the  same  credit  is  not  given  to  it.* 

3.  God  directed  the  Israelites  to  swear  by  his  name  ;f  and  was 
pleased,  "  in  order  to  shew  the  immutability  of  his  own  counsel,''^ 
to  confirm  his  covenant  with  that  people  by  an  oath:  neither  of 
which  it  is  probable  he  would  have  done,  had  he  not  intended  to 
represent  oaths  as  having  some  meaning  and  effect  beyond  the 
obligation  of  a  bare  promise  ;  which  effect  must  be  owing  to  the 
severer  punishment  with  which  he  will  vindicate  the  authority 
of  oaths. 

V.  Promissory  oaths  are  not  binding,  where  the  promise  itself 
would  not  be  so  :  for  the  several  cases  of  which,  see  the  Chapter 
of  Promises. 

VI.  As  oaths  are  designed  for  the  security  of  the  imposer,  it 
is  manifest  that  they  must  be  interpreted  and  performed  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  imposer  intends  them;  otherwise,  they  afford 
no  security  to  him.  And  this  is  the  meaning  and  reason  of  the 
rule,  "jurare  in  animum  imponenfis;"  which  rule  the  reader  is 
desired  to  carry  along  with  him,  whilst  we  proceed  to  consider 
certain  particular  oaths,  which  are  either  of  greater  importance, 
or  more  likely  to  fall  in  our  way  than  others. 

*  Except,  indeed,  where  a  Quaker's  or  Moravian's  affirmation  is  accepted  in 
the  place  of  an  oath  ;  in  which  case,  a  lie  partakes,  so  far  as  this  reason  ex- 
tends, of  the  nature  and  guilt  of  perjury. 

t  Deut.  vi.  13*    x.  20.  *  Heb.  vi.  17-. 


OATH    IN    EVIDENCE.  121 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

OATH    IN   EVIDENCE. 

THE  witness  swears,  "to  speak  the  truth,  the  whole  truth, 
and  nothing  hut  the  truth,  touching  the  matter  in  question." 

Upon  which  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  designed  concealment 
of  any  truth,  which  relates  to  the  matter  in  agitation,  is  as  much 
a  violation  of  the  oath,  as  to  testify  a  positive  falsehood ;  and 
this  whether  the  witness  be  interrogated  to  that  particular  point 
or  not.  For  when  the  person  to  be  examined  is  sworn  upon  a 
voir  dire,  that  is,  in  order  to  inquire,  whether  he  ought  to  be 
admitted  to  give  evidence  in  the  cause  at  all,  the  form  runs  thus  : 
(i  You  shall  true  answer  make  to  all  such  questions  as  shall  be 
asked  you ;"  but,  when  he  comes  to  be  sworn  in  chief,  he  swears 
"  to  speak  the  whole  truth,"  without  restraining  it,  as  before  to 
the  questions  that  shall  be  asked  :  which  difference  shows,  that 
the  law  intends,  in  this  latter  case,  to  require  of  the  witness,  that 
he  give  a  complete  and  unreserved  account  of  what  he  knows  of 
the  subject  of  the  trial,  whether  the  questions  proposed  to  him 
reach  the  extent  of  his  knowledge  or  not.  So  that  if  it  be  inquired 
of  the  witness  afterwards  why  he  did  not  inform  the  court,  so 
and  so,  it  is  not  a  sufficient,  though  a  very  common  answer,  to 
say,  "  because  it  was  never  asked  me.5' 

I  know  but  one  exception  to  this  rule ;  which  is,  when  a  full 
discovery  of  the  truth  tends  to  accuse  the  witness  himself  of  some 
legal  crime.  The  law  of  England  constrains  no  man  to  become 
his  own  accuser;  consequently,  imposes  the  oath  of  testimony 
with  this  tacit  reservation.  But  the  exception  must  be  confined 
to  legal  crimes.  A  point  of  honour,  of  delicacy,  or  of  reputation, 
may  make  a  witness  backward  to  disclose  some  circumstance 
with  which  he  is  acquainted  ;  but  will  in  no  wise  justify  his  con- 
cealment of  the,  truth,  unless  it  could  be  shown,  that  the  law 
which  imposes  the  oath  intended  to  allow  this  indulgence  to  such 
motives.  The  exception  of  which  we  are  speaking  is  also  with- 
drawn by  a  compact  between  the  magistrate  and  the  witness, 
when  an  accomplice  is  admitted  to  give  evidence  against  the 
partners  of  his  crime. 
16 


£SJ2  OATH  OF  ALLEGIANCE. 

Tenderness  to  the  prisoner,  although  a  specious  apology  for 
concealment  is  no  just  excuse;  for  if  this  plea  be  thought  suffi- 
cient, it  takes  the  administration  of  penai  justice  out  of  the  hands 
of  judges  and  juries,  and  makes  it  depend  upon  the  temper  of 
prosecutors  and  witnesses. 

Questions  may  be  asked,  which  are  irrelative  to  the  cause, 
which  affect  the  witness  himself,  or  some  third  person  ;  in  which, 
and  in  all  cases  where  the  witness  doubts  of  the  pertinency  and 
propriety  of  the  question,  he  ought  to  refer  his  doubts  to  the 
court.  The  answer  of  the  court,  in  relaxation  of  the  oath,  is 
authority  enough  to  the  witness ;  for  the  law  which  imposes  the 
oath  may  remit  what  it  will  of  the  obligation;  and  it  belongs  to 
the  court  to  declare  what  the  mind  of  the  law  is.  Nevertheless, 
it  cannot  be  said  universally,  that  the  answer  of  the  court  is 
conclusive  upon  the  conscience  of  the  witness;  for  his  obligation 
depends  upon  what  he  apprehended,  at  the  time  of  taking  the 
oath,  to  be  the  design  of  the  law  in  imposing  it ;  and  no  after 
requisition  or  explanation  by  the  court  can  carry  the  obligation 
beyond  that. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

OATH  OF  ALLEGIANCE. 

"  I  DO  sincerely  promise,  and  swear,  that  I  will  be  faithful 
and  bear  true  allegiance  to  his  Majesty  King  George."  For- 
merly the  oath  of  allegiauce  ran  thus  :  "I  do  promise  to  be  true 
and  faithful  to  the  King  and  his  heirs,  and  truth  and  faith  to 
bear,  of  life,  and  limb,  and  terrene  honour :  and  not  to  know  or 
hear  of  any  ill  or  damage  intended  him,  without  defending  him 
therefrom  :"  and  was  altered  at  the  Revolution  to  the  present 
form.  So  that  the  present  oath  is  a  relaxation  of  the  old  one. 
And  as  the  oath  was  intended  to  ascertain,  not  so  much  the  ex- 
tent of  the  subject's  obedience  as  the  person  to  whom  it  was  due, 
the  legislature  seems  to  have  wrapped  up  its  meaning  upon  the 
former  point  in  a  word  purposely  made  choice  of,  for  its  general 
and  indeterminate  signification. 


OATH  OP  ALLEGIANCE.  123 

It  will  be  most  convenient  to  consider,  first,  what  the  oath  ex- 
cludes, as  inconsistent  with  it;  secondly,  what  it  permits. 

1.  The  oath  excludes  all  intention  to  support  the  claim  or 
pretensions  of  any  other  person  or  persons  to  the  crown  and  gov- 
ernment, than  the  reigning  sovereign.  A  Jacobite,  who  is  per- 
suaded of  the  Pretender's  right  to  the  crown,  and  who  moreover 
designs  to  join  with  the  adherents  of  that  cause  to  assert  this 
right  whenever  a  proper  opportunity,  with  a  reasonable  prospect 
of  success,  presents  itself,  cannot  take  the  oath  of  allegiance ;  or, 
if  he  could,  the  oath  of  abjuration  follows,  which  contains  an 
express  renunciation  of  all  opinions  in  favour  of  the  claim  of  the 
exiled  family. 

2.  The  oath  excludes  all  design,  at  the  time,  of  attempting  to 
depose  the  reigning  prince,  for  any  reason  whatever.  Let  the 
justice  of  the  Revolution  be  what  it  would,  no  honest  man  could 
have  taken  even  the  present  oath  of  allegiance  to  James  the 
Second,  who  entertained  at  the  time  of  taking  it  a  design  of  joining 
in  the  measures  which  were  entered  into  to  dethrone  him. 

3.  The  oath  forbids  the  taking  up  of  arms  against  the  reigning 
prince,  with  views  of  private  advancement,  or  from  motives  of 
personal  resentment  or  dislike.  It  is  possible  to  happen  in  this 
what  frequently  happens  in  despotic  governments,  that  an  am- 
bitious general,  at  the  head  of  the  military  force  of  the  nation, 
might,  by  a  conjunction  of  fortunate  circumstances,  and  a  great 
ascendency  over  the  minds  of  the  soldiery,  depose  the  prince  upon 
the  throne,  and  make  way  to  it  for  himself,  or  for  some  creature 
of  his  own.  A  person  in  this  situation  would  be  withheld  from 
such  an  attempt  by  the  oath  of  allegiance,  if  he  paid  regard  to  it, 
If  there  were  any  who  engaged  in  the  rebellion  of  the  year  forty 
five,  witli  the  expectation  of  titles,  estates,  or  preferment ;  or 
because  they  were  disappointed,  and  thought  themselves  neglected 
and  ill  used  at  court;  or  because  they  entertained  a  family  ani- 
mosity, or  personal  resentment  against  the  king,  the  favourite,  or 
the  minister;  if  any  were  induced  to  take  up  arms  by  these  mo- 
tives, they  added  to  the  many  crimes  of  an  unprovoked  rebellion, 
that  of  wilful  and  corrupt  perjury.  If,  in  the  late  American  war, 
the  same  motive  determined  others  to  connect  themselves  with 
that  opposition,  their  part  in  it  was  chargeable  with  perfidy  and 
falsehood  to  their  oath,  whatever  was  the  justice  of  the  opposition 


Ig4  OATH  OF  ALLEGIANCE. 

itself,  or  however  well  founded  their  own  complaints  might  be  of 
private  injury. 

We  are  next  to  consider  what  the  oath  of  allegiance  permits/ 
or  does  not  require. 

1.  It  permits  resistance  to  the  king,  when  his  ill  behaviour  or 
imbecility  is  such,  as  to  make  resistance  beneficial  to  the  commu- 
nity. It  may  fairly  b^pWSilumed  that  the  Convention  Parliament^ 
which  introduced  the  oath  in  its  present  form,  did  not  intend,  by 
imposing  it,  to  exclude  all  resistance,  since  the  members  of  that 
legislature  had  many  of  them  recently  taken  up  arms  against 
James  the  Second,  and  the  very  authority  by  which  they  sat 
together  was  itself  the  effect  of  a  successful  opposition  to  au  ac- 
knowledged sovereign.  Some  resistance,  therefore,  was  meant  to 
be  allowed ;  and  if  any,  it  must  be  that  which  has  the  public  inter- 
est for  its  object. 

2.  The  oath  does  not  require  obedience  to  such  commands  of 
the  king  as  are  unauthorized  by  law.  No  such  obedience  is  im- 
plied by  the  terms  of  the  oath ;  the  fidelity  there  promised,  is 
intended  of  fidelity  in  opposition  to  his  enemies,  and  not  in  oppo- 
sition to  law;  and  allegiance,  at  the  utmost,  can  only  signify 
obedience  to  lawful  commands.  Therefore,  if  the  king  should 
issue  a  proclamation,  levying  money,  or  imposing  any  service  or 
restraint  upon  the  subject  beyond  what  the  crown  is  empowered 
by  law  to  enjoin,  there  would  exist  no  sort  of  obligation  to  obey 
such  a  proclamation,  in  consequence  of  having  taken  the  oath  of 
allegiance. 

3.  The  oath  does  not  require  that  we  should  continue  our  alle- 
giance to  the  king  after  he  is  actually  and  absolutely  deposed, 
driven  into  exile,  carried  away  captive,  or  otherwise  rendered 
incapable  of  exercising  the  regal  oface,  whether  by  his  fault  or 
without  it.  The  promise  of  allegiance  implies,  and  is  understood 
by  all  parties  to  suppose,  that  the  person  to  whom  the  promise  is 
made  continues  king;  continues,  that  is,  to  exercise  the  power, 
and  afford  the  protection,  which  belongs  to  the  office  of  king ; 
for  it  is  the  possession  of  this  power  which  makes  such  a  partic- 
ular person  the  object  of  the  oath;  without  it,  why  should  I 
swear  allegiance  to  this  man,  rather  than  to  any  man  in  the  king- 
dom ?  Beside  which,  the  contrary  doctrine  is  burthened  with  this 
consequence,  that  every  conquest,  revolution  of  government,  or 
disaster  which  befalls  the  person  of  the  prince,  must  be  followed 
by  perpetual  and  irremediable  anarchy. 


OATH  AGAINST  BRIBERY.  i%5 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

OATH  AGAINST  BRIBERY  IN  THE  ELECTION  OF  MEMBERS  OF 
PARLIAMENT. 

"  I  DO  swear,  I  have  not  receive^  t>r  had,  by  myself,  or  any 
person  whatsoever  in  trust  for  me,  or  for  my  use  and  benefit,  di- 
rectly or  indirectly,  any  sum  or  sums  of  money,  office,  place,  or 
employment,  gift  or  reward,  or  any  promise,  or  security,  for  any 
money,  office,  employment,  or  gift,  in  order  to  give  my  vote  at  this 
election." 

The  several  contrivances  to  evade  this  oath,  such  as  the  elec- 
tors accepting  money  under  colour  of  borrowing  it,  and  giving  a 
promissory  note,  or  other  security,  for  it,  which  is  cancelled  after 
the  election ;  receiving  money  from  a  stranger,  or  a  person  in 
disguise,  or  out  of  a  drawer,  or  purse,  left  open  for  the  purpose  ; 
or  promises  of  money  to  be  paid  after  the  election  ;  or  stipulating 
for  a  place,  living,  or  other  private  advantage  of  any  kind ;  if 
they  escape  the  legal  penalties  of  perjury,  incur  the  moral  guilt : 
for  they  are  manifestly  within  the  mischief  and  design  of  the 
statute  which  imposes  the  oath,  and  within  the  terms  indeed  of 
the  oath  itself;  for  the  word  "indirectly"  is  inserted  on  purpose 
io  comprehend  such  cases  as  these. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

OATH  AGAINST  SIMONY. 

PROM  an  imaginary  resemblance  between  the  purchase  of  a 
benefice  and  Simon  Magus's  attempt  to  purchase  the  gift  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  Acts  viii.  19,  the  obtaining  of  ecclesiastical  prefer- 
ment by  pecuniary  considerations  bus  been  termed  Simony. 

The  sale  of  advovvsons  is  inseparable  from  the  allowance  of 
private  patronage  ;  as  patronage  would  otherwise  devolve  to  the 
most  indigent,  and  for  that  reason  the  most  improper  hands  it 
could  be  placed  in.  Nor  did  the  law  ever  intend  to  prohibit  the 
passing  of  advowsons  from  one  patron  to  another ;  but  to  re- 
strain the  patron,  who  possesses  the  right  of  presenting  at  the 


£26  OATH  AGAINST  SIMONY. 

vacancy,  from  being  influenced,  in  the  choice  of  his  presentee,  by 
a  bribe,  or  benefit  to  himself.  It  is  the  same  distinction  with  that 
which  obtains  in  a  freeholder's  vote  for  his  representative  in  par- 
liament. The  right  of  voting,  that  is,  the  freehold,  to  which  the 
right  pertains,  may  be  bought  and  sold  as  freely  as  any  other 
property ;  but  the  exercise  of  that  right,  the  vote  itself,  may  not 
be  purchased,  or  influenced  by  money. 

For  this  purpose,  the  law  imposes  upon  the  presentee,  who  is 
generally  concerned  in  the  simony,  if  there  be  any,  the  following 
oath :  "  I  do  swear,  that  I  have  made  no  simoniacai  payment, 
contract,  or  promise,  directly  or  indirectly,  by  myself,  or  by  any 
other  to  mj  knowledge,  or  with  my  consent,  to  any  person  or  per- 
sons whatsoever,  for  or  concerning  the  procuring  and  obtaining 
this  eceiesiaslical  place,  &c.  nor  will,  at  any  time  hereafter,  per- 
form or  satisfy,  any  such  kind  of  payment,  contract,  or  promise, 
made  by  any  other,  without  my  knowledge  or  consent:  So  help 
me  God,  through  Jesus  Christ." 

It  is  extraordinary  that  Bishop  Gibson  should  have  thought 
this  oath  to  be  against  all  promises  whatsoever,  when  the  terms 
of  the  oath  expressly  restrain  it  to  simoniacai  promises ;  and  the 
law  alone  must  pronounce  what  promises,  as  well  as  what  pay- 
ments and  contracts,  are  simoniacai,  and  consequently,  come  within 
the  oath ;  and  what  do  not  so. 

Now  the  law  adjudges  to  be  simony, 

1.  All  payments,  contracts,  or  promises,  made  by  any  person 
for  a  benefice  already  vacant.  The  advowson  of  a  void  turn,  by 
law,  cannot  be  transferred  from  one  patron  to  another}  therefore, 
if  the  void  turn  be  procured  by  money,  it  must  be  by  a  pecuniary 
influence  upon  the  then  subsisting  patron  in  the  choice  of  his  pre- 
sentee, which  is  the  very  practice  the  law  condemns. 

2.  A  clergyman's  purchasing  of  the  next  turn  of  a  benefice  for 
himself,  "  directly  or  indirectly,"  that  is,  by  himself,  or  by  another 
person  with  his  money.  It  does  not  appear,  that  the  law  prohibits 
a  clergyman  from  purchasing  the  perpetuity  of  a  patronage,  more 
than  any  other  person;  but  purchasing  the  perpetuity,  and  forth- 
with selling  it  again,  with  a  reservation  of  the  next  turn,  and  with 
no  other  design  than  to  possess  himself  of  the  next  turn,  is  in 
fraudem  legis,  and  inconsistent  with  the  oath. 

3.  The  procuring  of  a  piece  of  preferment,  by  ceding  to  the 
patron  any  rights,  or  probable  rights,  belonging  to  it.     This  is 


OATHS  TO  OBSERVE  LOCAL 'STATUTES.       £gy 

simony  of  the  worst  kind;  for  it  is  not  only  buying  preferment, 
but  robbing  the  succession  to  pay  for  it. 

•1.  Promises  to  the  patron  of  a  portion  of  the  profit,  of  a  re- 
mission of  tythes  anil  dues,  or  other  advantage  out  of  the  produce 
of  the  benefice  :  which  kind  of  compact  is  a  pernicious  condeseen. 
sion  in  the  clergy,  independent  of  the  oath ;  for  it  tends  to  intro. 
duce  a  practice,  which  may  very  soon  become  general,  of  giving 
the  revenue  of  churches  to  the  lay  patrons,  and  supplying  the 
duty  by  indigent  stipendiaries. 

5.  General  bonds  of  resignation,  that  is,  bonds  to  resign  upon 
demand. 

I  doubt  not  but  that  the  oath  against  simony  is  binding  upon 
the  consciences  of  those  who  take  it,  though  I  question  much  the" 
expediency  of  requiring  it.  It  is  very  fit  to  debar  public  patrons, 
such  as  the  king,  the  lord  chancellor,  bishops,  ecclesiastical  cor- 
porations, and  the  like,  from  this  kind  of  traffic;  because  from 
them  may  be  expected  some  regard  to  the  qualifications  of  the. 
persons  whom  they  promote.  But  the  oath  lays  a  snare  for  the 
integrity  of  the  clergy  ;  and  I  do  not  perceive,  that  the  requiring 
of  it  in  cases  of  private  patronage  produces  any  good  effect,  suffi- 
cient to  compensate  for  this  danger. 

Where  advowsons  are  holden  along  with  manors,  or  other  prin- 
cipal estates,  it  would  be  an  easy  regulation  to  forbid  that  they 
should  ever  hereafter  be  separated;  and  would,  at  least,  kee§> 
church  preferments  out  of  the  hands  of  brokers. 


CHAPTER  XXI. .      . 

OATHS  TO  OBSERVE  LOCAL  STATUTES. 

MEMBERS  of  colleges  in  the  universities,  and  of  other  ancient 
foundations,  are  required  to  swear  to  the  observance  of  their  re- 
spective statutes  ;  which  observance  is  become  in  some  cases  un- 
lawful, in  others  impracticable,  in  others  useless,  in  others  incon- 
venient. 

Unlawful  directions  are  countermanded  by  the  authority  which 
made  them  unlawful. 

Impracticable  directions  are  dispensed  with  by  the  necessity  of 
the  case. 


12S  OATHS  TO  OBSERVE  LOCAL  STATUTES. 

The  only  question  is,  how  far  the  members  of  these  societies 
may  take  upon  themselves  to  judge  of  the  inconveniency  of  any 
particular  direction,  and  make  that  a  reason  for  laying  aside  the 
observation  of  it. 

The  animus  imponentis,  which  is  the  measure  of  the  juror's 
duty,  seems  to  be  satisfied,  when  nothing  is  omitted,  but  what, 
from  some  change  in  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  pre- 
scribed, it  may  fairly  be  presumed  that  the  founder  himself  would 
have  dispensed  with. 

To  bring  a  case  within  this  rule,  the  inconveniency  must, 

1.  Be  manifest ;  concerning  which  there  is  no  doubt. 

2.  It  must  arise  from  some  change  in  the  circumstances  of  the 
institution  ;  for,  let  the  inconveniency  be  what  it  will,  if  it  ex- 
isted at  the  time  of  the  foundation,  it  must  be  presumed  that  the 
founder  did  not  deem  the  avoiding  of  it  of  sufficient  importance 
to  alter  his  plan. 

3.  The  direction  of  the  statute  must  not  only  he  inconvenient 
in  the  general,  for  so  may  the  institution  itself  be,  but  prejudicial 
to  the  particular  end  proposed  by  the  institution  ;  for  it  is  this 
last  circumstance  which  proves  that  the  founder  would  have  dis- 
pensed with  it  in  pursuance  of  his  own  purpose. 

The  statutes  of  some  colleges  forbid  the  speaking  of  any  lan- 
guage but  Latin  within  the  walls  of  the  college;  direct  that  a 
certain  number,  and  not  fewer  than  that  number,  be  allowed  the 
use  of  an  apartment  amongst  them  ;  that  so  many  hours  of  each 
day  be  employed  in  public  exercises,  lectures,  or  disputations; 
and  some  other  articles  of  discipline  adapted  to  the  tender  years 
of  the  students  who  in  former  times  resorted  to  universities. 
Were  colleges  to  retain  such  rules,  nobody  now-a-days  would 
come  near  them.  They  are  laid  aside,  therefore,  though  parts  of 
the  statutes,  and  as  such  included  within  the  oath,  not  merely  be- 
cause they  are  inconvenient,  but  because  there  is  sufficient  reason 
to  believe,  that  the  founders  themselves  would  have  dispensed 
with  them,  as  subversive  of  their  own  designs. 


SUBSCRIPTION  TO  ARTICLES  OP  RELIGION.  ^gg 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

SUBSCRIPTION  TO  ARTICLES  OF  RELIGION. 

SUBSCRIPTION  to  Articles  of  Religion,  though  no  more 
than  a  declaration  of  the  subscriber's  assent,  may  properly  enough 
he  considered  in  connexion  with  the  subject  of  oaths,  because  it  is 
governed  by  the  same  rule  of  interpretation : 

Which  rule  is  the  animus  imponentis. 

The  inquiry,  therefore,  concerning  subscription  will  he,  quis 
imposuit,  et  quo  animo. 

The  bishop  who  receives  the  subscription,  is  not  the  imposer, 
any  more  than  the  cryer  of  a  court,  who  administers  the  oath 
to  the  jury  and  witnesses,  is  the  person  that  imposes  it ;  nor,  con- 
sequently, is  the  private  opinion  or  interpretation  of  the  bishop 
of  any  signification  to  the  subscriber,  one  way  or  other. 

The  compilers  of  the  thirty-nine  articles  are  not  to  be  consid- 
ered as  the  imposers  of  subscription,  any  more  than  the  framer 
or  drawer  up  of  a  law  is  the  person  that  euacts  it. 

The  legislature  of  the  13th.  Eliz.  is  the  imposer,  whose  inten- 
tion the  subscriber  is  bound  to  satisfy. 

They  who  contend,  that  nothing  less  can  justify  subscription 
to  the  thirty-nine  articles,  than  the  actual  belief  of  each  and 
every  separate  proposition  contained  in  them,  must  suppose,  that 
the  legislature  expected  the  consent  of  ten  thousand  men,  and 
that  in  perpetual  succession,  not  to  one  controverted  proposition, 
hut  to  many  hundreds.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  this  could 
he  expected  by  any,  who  observed  the  ineurable  diversity  of  hu- 
man opinion  upon  ail  subjects  short  of  demonstration. 

If  the  authors  of  the  law  did  not  intend  this,  what  did  they 
intend  P 

They  intended  to  exclude  from  offices  in  the  church, 

1.  All  abettors  of  popery. 

2.  Anabaptists,  who  were  at  that  time  a  powerful  party  on  the 
Continent. 

3.  The  Puritans  who  were  hostile  to  an  episcopal  constitution ; 
and,  in  general,  the  members  of  such  leading  sects  or  foreign  es- 
tablishments as  threatened  to  overthrow  our  own. 

17 


130  WILLS. 

Whoeverfinds  himself  comprehended  within  these  descriptions, 
ought  not  to  subscribe.  Nor  can  a  subscriber  to  the  articles  take 
advantage  of  any  latitude  which  our  rule  may  seem  to  allow, 
who  is  not  first  convinced  that  he  is  truly  and  substantially  sat- 
isfying the  intention  of  the  legislature. 

During  the  present  state  of  ecclesiastical  patronage,  in  which 
private  individuals  are  permitted  to  impose  teachers  upon  par- 
ishes, with  which  they  are  often  little  or  not  at  all  connected, 
some  limitation  of  the  patron's  choice  may  be  necessary  to  pre- 
vent unedifying  contentions  between  neighbouring  teaehers,  or 
between  the  teachers  and  their  respective  congregations.  But 
this  danger,  if  it  exist,  may  be  provided  against  with  equal  effect, 
by  converting  the  articles  of  faith,  into  articles  of  peace. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

WILLS. 

THE  fundamental  question  upon  this  subject  is,  whether  Wills 
are  of  natural  or  of  adventitious  right  ?  that  is,  whether  the  right 
of  directing  the  disposition  of  property  after  his  death  belongs  to 
a  man  in  a  state  of  nature,  and  by  the  law  of  nature,  or  whether 
it  be  given  him  entirely  by  the  positive  regulations  of  the  country 
he  lives  in  ? 

The  immediate  produce  of  each  man's  personal  labour,  as  the 
tools,  weapons,  and  utensils,  which  he  manufactures,  the  tent  or 
hut  that  he  builds,  and  perhaps  the  flocks  and  herds,  which  he 
breeds  and  rears,  are  as  much  his  own  as  the  labour  was  which 
he  employed  upon  them,  that  is,  are  his  property  naturally  and 
absolutely;  and  consequently,  he  may  give  or  leave  them  to  whom 
he  pleases,  there  being  nothing  to  limit  the  continuance  of  his 
right,  or  to  restrain  the  alienation  of  it. 

But  every  other  species  of  property,  especially  property  in 
land,  stands  upon  a  different  foundation. 

We  have  seen  in  the  Chapter  upon  Property,  that,  in  a  state 
of  nature,  a  ma  's  right  to  a  particular  spot  of  ground  arises 
from  his  using  it,  and  his  wanting  it :  consequently  ceases  with 


WILLS.  ±31 

the  use  and  want :  so  that  at  his  death  the  estate  reverts  to  the 
community,  without  any  regard  to  the  last  owner's  will,  or  even 
any  preference  of  his  family,  further  than  as  they  become  the  first 
occupiers  after  him,  and  succeed  to  the  same  want  and  use. 

Moreover,  as  natural  rights  cannot,  like  rights  created  by  act 
of  parliament,  expire  at  the  end  of  a  certain  number  of  years,  if 
the  testator  have  a  right,  by  the  law  of  nature,  to  dispose  of  his 
property  one  moment  after  his  death,  he  has  the  same  right  to 
direct  the  disposition  of  it,  for  a  million  of  ages  after  him  ;  which 
is  absurd. 

The  ancient  apprehensions  of  mankind  upon  the  subject  were 
conformable  to  this  account  of  it ;  for  wills  have  been  introduced 
into  most  countries  by  a  positive  act  of  the  state,  as  by  the  Laws 
of  Solon  into  Greece,  by  the  Twelve  Tables  into  Rome  ;  and  that 
not  till  after  a  considerable  progress  had  been  made  in  legisla- 
tion, and  in  the  economy  of  civil  life.  Tacitus  relates,  that 
amongst  the  Germans  they  were  disallowed ;  and,  what  is  more 
remarkable,  in  this  country,  since  the  conquest,  lands  eould  not 
be  devised  by  will,  till  within  little  more  than  two  hundred  years 
ago,  when  this  privilege  was  restored  to  the  subject,  by  an  act 
of  parliament,  in  the  latter  end  of  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth. 

No  doubt,  many  beneficial  purposes  are  attained  by  extending 
the  owners  power  over  his  property  beyond  his  life,  and  beyond 
his  natural  right.  It  invites  to  industry;  it  encourages  mar- 
riage; it  secures  the  dutifulness  and  dependency  of  children. 
But  a  limit  must  be  assigned  to  the  duration  of  this  power.  The 
utmost  extent  to  which,  in  any  case,  entails  are  allowed  by  the 
laws  of  England  to  operate,  is  during  the  lives  in  existence  at 
the  death  of  the  testator,  and  one  and  twenty  years  beyond  these; 
after  which,  there  are  ways  and  means  of  setting  them  aside. 

From  the  consideration  that  wills  are  the  creatures  of  the 
municipal  law  which  gives  them  their  efficacy,  may  be  deduced 
a  determination  of  the  question,  whether  the  intention  of  the  tes- 
tator in  an  informal  will  be  binding  upon  the  conscience  of  those, 
who,  by  operation  of  law,  succeed  to  his  estate.  By  an  informal 
will,  I  mean  a  will  void  in  law  ;  for  want  of  some  requisite 
formality,  though  no  doubt  be  entertained  of  its  meaning  or  au- 
thenticity :  as,  suppose  a  man  make  his  will,  devising  his  free- 
hold estate  to  his  sister's  son,  and  the  will  be  attested  by  two 
only,  instead  of  thre"e.  subscribing  witnesses;  would  the  brother's 


138  WILLS. 

son,  who  is  heir  at  law  to  the  testator,  be  bound  in  conscience  io 
resign  his  claim  to  the  estate,  out  of  deference  to  his  uncle's  in- 
tention ?  Or,  on  the  contrary,  would  not  the  devisee  under  the 
will  be  bound,  upon  discovery  of  this  flaw  in  it,  to  surrender  the 
estate,  suppose  he  had  gained  possession  of  it,  to  the  heir  at  law  ? 

Generally  speaking,  the  heir  at  law  is  not  bound  by  the  inten- 
tion of  the  testator.  For  the  intention  can  signify  nothing,  unless 
the  person  intending  have  a  right  to  govern  the  descent  of  the 
estate.  That  is  the  first  question.  Now  this  right  the  testator 
can  only  derive  from  the  law  of  the  land ;  but  the  law  confers 
the  right  upon  certain  conditions,  with  which  conditions  he  has 
not  complied.  Therefore,  the  testator  can  lay  no  claim  to  the 
power  which  he  pretends  to  exercise,  as  he  hath  not  entitled  him« 
self  to  the  benefit  of  that  law,  by  virtue  of  which  alone  the  estate 
ought  to  attend  his  disposal.  Consequently,  the  devisee  under 
the  will,  who,  by  concealing  this  flaw  in  it,  keeps  possession  of 
the  estate,  is  in  the  situation  of  any  other  person,  who  avails 
himself  of  his  neighbour's  ignorance  to  detain  from  him  his  prop- 
erty. The  will  is  so  much  waste  paper,  from  the  defect  of  right 
in  the  person  who  made  it.  Nor  is  this  catching  at  an  expression 
of  law  to  pervert  the  substantial  design  of  it ;  for  I  apprehend  it 
to  be  the  deliberate  mind  of  the  legislature,  that  no  will  should 
take  effect  upon  real  estates  unless  authenticated  in  the  precise 
manner  which  the  statute  describes.  Had  testamentary  dispo- 
sitions been  founded  in  any  natural  right,  independent  of  positive 
constitutions,  I  should  have  thought  differently  of  this  question  : 
for  then  I  should  have  considered  the  law  rather  as  refusing  its 
assistance  to  enforce  the  right  of  the  devisee,  than  as  extinguish- 
ing or  working  any  alteration  in  the  right  itself. 

And  after  all,  I  should  ehoose  to  propose  a  case,  where  no  con- 
sideration of  pity  to  distress,  of  duty  to  a  parent,  or  of  gratitude 
to  a  benefactor,  interfered  with  the  general  rule  of  justice. 

The  regard  due  to  kindred  in  the  disposal  of  our  fortune  (ex- 
cept the  case  of  lineal  kindred,  which  is  different)  arises  either 
from  the  respect  we  owe  to  the  presumed  intention  of  the  ancestor 
from  whom  we  received  our  fortunes,  or  from  the  expectation^ 
which  we  have  encouraged.  The  intention  of  the  ancestor  is 
presumed  with  great  certainty,  as  well- as  entitled  to  more  respect, 
the  fewer  degrees  he  is  removed  from  us ;  which  makes  the  dif- 
ference in  the  different  degrees  of  kindred.    For  instance,  it  may" 


WILLS. 


133 


be  presumed  to  be  a  father's  intention  and  desire,  that  the  inherit- 
ance which  he  leaves,  after  it  has  served  the  turn  and  generation 
of  one  son,  should  remain  a  provision  for  the  families  of  his  other 
children,  equally  related  and  dear  to  him  as  the  oldest.  Who- 
ever, therefore,  without  cause,  gives  away  his  patrimony  from 
his  brother's  or  sister's  family  is  guilty  not  so  much  of  an  injury 
to  them,  as  of  ingratitude  to  his  parent.  The  deference  due  from 
the  possessor  of  a  fortune  to  the  presumed  desire  of  his  ancestor 
will  also  vary  with  this  circumstance,  whether  the  ancestor 
earned  the  fortune  by  his  personal  industry,  acquired  it  by  ac- 
cidental successes,  or  only  transmitted  the  inheritance  which  he 
received. 

Where  a  man's  fortune  is  acquired  by  himself,  and  he  has  done 
nothing  to  excite  expectation,  but  rather  has  refrained  from  those 
particular  attentions  which  tend  to  cherish  expectation,  he  is 
perfectly  disengaged  from  the  force  of  the  above  reasons,  and  at 
liberty  to  leave  his  fortune  to  his  friends,  to  charitable  or  publie 
purposes,  or  to  whom  he  will;  the  same  blood,  proxHW|ft4' blood, 
and  the  like,  are  merely  modes  of  speech,  implying  neihin^real, 
nor  any  obligation  of  themselves. 

There  is  always,  however,  a  reason  for  providing  for  our  pd 
relations,  in  preference  to  others  who  may  be  equally  necessitous, 
which  is,  that  if  we  do  not,  no  one  else  will;  mankind,  by  an 
established  consent,  leaving  the  reduced  branches  of  good  fami- 
lies to  the  bounty  of  their  wealthy  alliances. 

The  not  making  a  will  is  a  very  culpable  omission,  where  it  is 
attended  with  the  following  effects:  where  it  leaves  daughters, 
or  younger  children,  at  the  mercy  of  the  oldest  son;  where  it 
distributes  a  personal  foitune  equally  amongst  the  children,  al- 
though there  be  no  equality  in  their  exigencies  or  situations  ; 
where  it  leaves  an  opening  for  litigation  ;  or  lastly,  and  princi- 
pally, where  it  defrauds  creditors:  for,  by  a  defect  in  our  laws, 
which  has  been  long  and  strangely  overlooked,  real  estates  are 
not  subject  to  the  payment  of  debts  by  simple  contract,  unless 
made  so  by  will ;  although  credit  is,  in  fact,  generally  given  to 
the  possession  of  such  estates:  he,  therefore,  who  neglects  to 
make  the  necessary  appointments  for  the  payment  of  his  debts, 
as  far  as  his  effects  extend,  sins,  as  it  has  been  justly  said,  in 
his    grave  :  if  and  if  he  omits   this  on  purpose  to  defeat  the  de- 


fe- 


iei<  WILLS. 

mands  of  his  creditors,  he  dies,  with  a  deliberate  fraud  in  his 
heart. 

Anciently,  when  any  one  died  without  a  will,  the  bishop  of 
the  diocese  took  possession  of  his  personal  fortune,  in  order  to  dis- 
pose of  it  for  the  benefit  of  his  soul,  that  is,  to  pious  or  charitable 
uses.  It  became  necessary,  therefore,  that  the  bishop  should  be 
satisfied  of  the  authenticity  of  the  will,  when  there  was  any,  before 
he  resigned  the  right  which  he  had  to  take  possession  of  the  dend 
man's  fortune  in  case  of  intestacy.  In  this  way  wills,  and  con- 
troversies relating  to  wills,  came  within  the  cognizance  of  eccle- 
siastical courts  :  under  the  jurisdiction  of  which,  wills  of  person- 
als (the  only  wills  that  were  made  formerly)  still  continue, 
though  in  truth,  no  more  now  a  days  connected  with  religion, 
than  any  other  instruments  of  conveyance.  This  is  a  peculiarity 
in  the  English  law. 

Succession  "to  intestates  must  be  regulated  by  positives  rules  of 
law,  there  being  no  principle  of  natural  justice  whereby  to  ascer- 
tain the  proportion  of  the  different  elaimauts  ;  not  to  mention  that 
the  claim  itself,  especially  of  collateral  kindred,  seems  to  have 
little  foundation  in  the  law  of  nature. 

These  regulations  should  be  guided  by  the  duty  and  presumed 
inclination  of  the  deceased,  so  far  as  these  considerations  can  be 
consulted  by  general  rules.  .  The  statutes  of  Charles  the  Second, 
commonly  called  (he  statutes  of  distribution,  which  adopt  the 
rule  of  the  Roman  law  in  the  distribution  of  personals,  are  suffi- 
ciently equitable.  They  assign  one  third  to  the  widow,  and  two 
thirds  to  the  children ;  in  case  of  no  children,  one  half  to  the  wid- 
ow, and  the  other  half  to  the  next  of  kin  ;  where  neither  widow 
nor  lineal  descendants  survive,  the  whole  to  the  next  of  kin,  and 
to  be  equally  divided  amongst  kindred  of  equal  degrees,  without 
distinction  of  whole  blood  and  half  blood,  or  of  consanguinity  by 
the  father's  or.mother's  side. 

The  descent  of  real  estates,  that  is,  of  houses  and  land  having 
heen  settled  in  more  remote  and  in  ruder  times,  is  less  reasonable. 
There  never  can  be  much  to  complain  of  in  a  rule  which  every 
person  may.  avoid,  by  so  easy  a  provision  as  that  of  making  his 
will ;  otherwise,  our  law  in  this  respect  is  chargeable  with  some 
flagrant,  absurdities  ;  such  as,  that  an  estate  shall  in  no  wise  go 
to  the  brother  or  sister  of  the  half  blood,  though  it  came  to  the 
'deceased  from  the  common  parent ;  that  it  shall  go  to  the  re- 


WILLS.  133 

motest  relation  the  intestate  has  in  the  world,  rather  than  to  his 
own  father  or  mother ;  or  even  be  forfeited  for  want  of  an  heir, 
though  both  parents  survive  ;  that  the  most  distant  paternal  re- 
lation shall  be  preferred  to  an  uncle,  or  own  cousin  by  the 
mother's  side,  notwithstanding  the  estate  was  purchased  and  .ac- 
quired by  the  intestate  himself. 

Land  not  being  so  divisible  as  money,  may  be  a  reason  for 
making  a  difference  in  the  course  of  inheritance  ;  but  there  ought 
to  be  no  difference  but  what  is  founded  upon  that  reason.  The 
Roman  law  made  none. 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 
BOOK  III. 

PART  II. 

OF  RELATIVE  DUTIES  WHICH  ARE  INDETERMINATE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHARITY. 

I  USE  the  term  Charity  neither  in  the  common  sense  of  bounty 
to  the  poor,  nor  in  St.  Paul's  sense  of  benevolence  to  all  man- 
kind ;  but  I  apply  it  at  present,  in  a  sense  more  commodious  to 
my  purpose,  to  signify  the  promoting  the  happiness  of  our  in- 
feriours. 

Charity,  in  this  sense,  I  take  to  be  the  principal  province  of 
virtue  and  religion :  for,  whilst  worldly  prudence  will  direct  our 
behaviour  towards  our  superiours,  and  politeness  towards  our 
equals,  there  is  little  beside  the  consideration  of  duty,  or  an 
habitual  humanity  which  comes  into  thp  place  of  consideration, 
to  produce  a  proper  conduct  towards  those  who  are  beneath  us, 
and  dependent  upon  us. 


• 


CHARITY.  137 

There  are  three  principal  methods  of  promoting  the  happiness 
of  our  inferiours. 

1.  By  the  treatment  of  our  domestics  and  dependents* 
IS.  By  professional  assistance. 
3.  By  pecuniary  bounty. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHARITY. 

THE  TREATMENT  OF  OUR  DOMESTICS  AND  DEPENDENTS. 

A  PARTY  of  friends  setting  out  together  upon  a  journey,  soon 
find  it  to  be  the  best  for  all  sides,  that  while  they  are  upon  the 
road,  one  of  the  company  should  wait  upon  the  rest ;  another  ride 
forward  to  seek  out  lodging  and  entertainment ;  a  third  carry  the 
portmanteau ;  a  fourth  take  charge  of  the  horses ;  a  fifth  bear  the 
purse,  conduct  and  direct  the  route :  not  forgetting,  however,  that, 
as  they  were  equal  and  independent  when  they  set  out,  so  they 
are  all  to  return  to  a  level  again  at  their  journey's  end.  The 
same  regard  and  respect ;  the  same  forbearance,  lenity,  and  re- 
serve in  using  their  service ;  the  same  mildness  in  delivering 
commands;  the  same  study  to  make  their  journey  comfortable 
and  pleasant,  which  he  whose  lot  it  was  to  direct  the  rest,  would 
in  common  decency  think  himself  bound  to  observe  towards  them, 
ought  we  to  shew  to  those,  who,  in  the  casting  of  the  parts  of 
human  society,  happen  to  be  placed  within  our  power,  or  to  de- 
pend upon  us. 

Another  reflection  of  a  like  tendency  with  the  former  is,  that 
our  obligation  (o  them  is  much  greater  than  theirs  to  us.  It  is  a 
mistake  to  suppose,  that  the  rich  man  maintains  his  servants, 
tradesmen,  tenants,  and  labourers :  the  truth  is,  they  maintain 
him.  It  is  their  industry  which  supplies  his  table,  furnishes  his 
wardrobe,  builds  his  houses,  adorns  his  equipage,  provides  his 
amusements.  It  is  not  the  estate  but  the  labourer  employed  upon 
it,  that  pays  his  rent.  All  that  he  does  is  to  distribute  what 
others  produce ;  which  is  the  least  part  of  the  business, 
18 


^38  SLAYEHY. 

Nor  do  I  perceive  any  foundation  for  an  opinion,  which  is 
ofteu  handed  round  in  genteel  company,  that  good  usage  is 
thrown  away  upon  low  and  ordinary  minds ;  that  they  are  in- 
sensible of  kindness,  and  incapable  of  gratitude.  If  by  "  low 
and  ordinary  minds''  are  meant  the  minds  of  men  in  low  and 
ordinary  stations,  they  seem  to  be  affected  by  benefits  in  the  same 
way  that  all  others  are,  and  to  be  no  less  ready  to  requite  them  : 
and  it  would  be  a  very  unaccountable  law  of  nature  if  it  were 
otherwise. 

Whatever  uneasiness  we  occasion  to  our  domestics,  which  nei- 
ther promotes  our  service,  nor  answers  the  just  ends  of  punish- 
ment, is  manifestly  wrong;  were  it  only  upon  the  general  princi- 
ple of  diminishing  the  sum  of  human  happiness. 

By  which  rule  we  are  forbidden, 

1.  To  enjoin  unnecessary  labour  or  confinement,  from  the  mere 
love  and  wantonness  of  domination  \ 

2.  To  insult  our  servants  by  harsh,  scornful,  or  opprobrious 
language ; 

3.  To  refuse  them  any  harmless  pleasures  : 

And,  by  the  same  principle,  are  also  forbidden  causeless  or 
immoderate  anger,  habitual  peevishness,  and  groundless  sus- 
picion. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SLAVERY. 

THE  prohibitions  of  the  last  chapter  extend  to  the  treatment  of 
slave*,  being  founded  upon  a  principle  independent  of  the  con- 
tract between  masters  and  servants. 

I  define  slavery  to  be  "  an  obligation  to  labour  for  the  benefit 
of  the  master,  without  the  contract  or  consent  of  the  servant." 

This  obligation  may  arise,  consistently  with  the  law  of  nature, 
from  three  causes  : 

1.  From  crimes. 

2.  From  captivity. 

3.  From  debt. 


SLAVERY.  139 

In  the  first  case,  the  continuance  of  the  slavery,  as  of  any  other 
punishment  ought  to  be  proportioned  to  the  crime ;  in  the  second 
and  third  cases,  it  ought  to  cease,  as  soon  as  the  demand  of  the 
injured  nation,  or  private  creditor,  is  satisfied. 

The  slave  trade  upon  the  coast  of  Africa  is  not  excused  by 
these  principles.  When  slaves  in  that  country  are  brought  to 
market,  no  questions,  1  believe,  are  asked  about  the  origin  or 
justice  of  the  vendor's  title.  It  may  be  presumed,  therefore,  that 
this  title  is  not  always,  if  it  be  ever,  founded  in  any  of  the  causes 
above  assigned. 

But  defect  of  right  in  the  first  purchase  is  the  least  crime,  with 
which  this  traffic  is  chargeable.  The  natives  are  excited  to  war 
and  mutual  depredation,  for  the  sake  of  supplying  their  contracts, 
or  furnishing  the  market  with  slaves.  With  this  the  wickedness 
begins.  The  slaves,  torn  away  from  parents,  wives,  children, 
from  their  friends  and  companions,  their  fields  and  flocks,  their 
home  and  country,  are  transported  to  the  European  settlements 
in  America,  with  no  other  accommodation  on  shipboard  than 
what  is  provided  for  brutes.  This  is  the  second  stage  of  cruelty  ; 
from  which  the  miserable  exiles  are  delivered,  only  to  be  placed, 
and  that  for  life,  in  subjection  to  a  dominion  and  system  of  laws, 
the  most  merciless  and  tyrannical  that  ever  were  tolerated  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth  :  and  from  all  that  can  be  learned  by  the 
accounts  of  the  people  upon  the  spot,  the  inordinate  authority 
which  the  plantation  laws  confer  upon  the  slave  holder  is  exer- 
cised, by  the  English  slave  holder,  especially,  with  rigour  and 
brutality. 

But  necessity  is  pretended  ;  the  name  under  which  every  enor- 
mity is  attempted  to  be  justified.  And,  after  all,  what  is  the 
necessity  ?  It  has  never  been  proved  that  the  land  could  not  be 
cultivated  there,  as  it  is  here,  by  hired  servants.  It  is  said  that 
it  could  not  be  cultivated  with  quite  the  same  eonveniency  and 
cheapness,  as  by  the  labour  of  slaves  ;  by  which  means  a  pound 
of  sugar,  which  the  planter  now  sells  for  sixpence,  could  not  be 
afforded  under  sixpence  half-penny  r — and  this  is  the  necessity! 

The  great  revolution  which  has  taken  place  in  the  Western 
World  may  probably  conduce  (and  who  knows  but  that  it  was 
designed  ?)  to  accelerate  the  fall  of  this  abominable  tyranny  :  and 
now  that  this  contest,  and  the  passions  which  attend  it,  are  no 
more,  there  may  succeed  perhaps  a  season  for  reflecting,  whether 


£40  SLAVERY. 

a  legislature  which  had  so  long  lent  its  assistance  to  the  support 
of  an  institution  replete  with  human  misery,  was  fit  to  be  trusted 
with  au  empire  the  most  extensive  that  ever  obtained  in  any  age 
or  quarter  of  the  world. 

Slavery  was  a  part  of  the  civil  constitution  of  most  countries, 
when  Christianity  appeared  ;  yet  no  passage  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Christian  scriptures,  by  which  it  is  condemned  or  prohibited. 
This  is  true;  for  Christianity,  soliciting  admission  iuto  all  na- 
tions of  the  world,  abstained,  as  behoved  it,  from  intermeddling 
with  the  civil  institutions  of  any.  But  does  it  follow,  from  the 
silence  of  scripture  concerning  them,  that  all  the  civil  institutions 
which  then  prevailed  were  right  ?  or  that  the  bad  should  not  be 
exchanged  for  better  ? 

Besides  this,  the  discharging  of  slaves  from  all  obligation  to 
obey  their  masters,  which  is  the  consequence  of  pronouncing 
slavery  to  be  unlawful,  would  have  had  no  belter  effect,  that)  to 
let  loose  one  half  of  mankind  upon  the  other.  Slaves  would 
have  been  tempted  to  embrace  a  religion,  which  asserted  tht-ir 
right  to  freedom;  masters  would  hardly  have  been  persuaded 
to  consent  to  claims  founded  upon  such  authority  ;  the  most 
calamitous  of  all  contests,  a  bellum  servile,  might  probably  have 
ensued,  to  the  reproach,  if  not  the  extinction  of  the  Christian 
name. 

The  truth  is,  the  emancipation  of  slaves  should  be  gradual ; 
and  be  carried  on  by  provisions  of  law,  and  under  the  protection 
of  civil  government.  Christianity  can  only  operate  as  an  alter- 
native. By  the  mild  diffusion  of  its  light  and  influence,  the  minds 
of  men  are  insensibly  prepared  to  perceive  and  correct  the  enor- 
mities, which  folly,  or  wickedness,  or  accident,  have  introduced 
into  their  public  establishments.  In  this  way  the  Greek  and 
Roman  slavery,  and  since  these,  the  feudal  tyranny,  has  declined 
hefore  it.  And  we  trust  that,  as  the  knowledge  and  authority  of 
the  same  religion  advance  in  the  world,  they  will  banish  what 
remains  of  this  odious  institution. 


PROFESSIONAL  ASSISTANCE.  14t 

CHAPTER  IV. 

CHARITY. 

PROFESSIONAL    ASSISTANCE. 

THIS  kind  of  beneficence  is  chiefly  to  be  expected  from  mem** 
bers  of  the  legislature,  magistrates,  medical,  legal,  and  sacerdotal 
professions. 

1.  The  care  of  the  poor  ought  to  be  the  principal  object  of  all 
laws  ;  for  tbis  plain  reason,  that  the  rich  are  able  to  take  care 
of  themselves. 

Much  has  been,  and  more  might  be  done,  by  the  laws  of  this 
country,  towards  the  relief  of  the  impotent,  and  the  protection 
and  encouragement  of  the  industrious  poor.  Whoever  applies 
himself  to  collect  observations  upon  the  state  and  operation  of 
the  poor  laws,  and  to  contrive  remedies  for  the  imperfections  and 
abuses  which  he  observes*  and  digests  these  remedies  into  acts 
of  parliament,  and  conducts  them  by  argument  or  influence, 
through  the  two  branches  of  the  legislature,  or  communicates  his 
ideas  10  those  who  are  more  likely  to  carry  them  into  effect,  de- 
serves well  of  a  class  of  the  community  so  numerous,  that  their 
happiness  forms  a  principal  part  of  the  whole.  The  study  and 
actn  ity  thus  employed  is  charity  in  the  most  meritorious  sense  of 
the  word. 

2.  The  application  of  parochial  relief  is  entrusted,  in  the  first 
instance,  to  overseers  and  contractors,  who  have  an  interest  in 
opposition  to  that  of  the  poor,  inasmuch  as  whatever  they  allow 
them  comes  in  part  out  of  their  own  pocket.  For  this  reason,  the 
law  has  deposited  with  justices  of  the  peace  a  power  of  super- 
intendence and  controul ;  and  the  judicious  interposition  of  this 
power  is  a  most  useful  exertion  of  charity,  and  oft-times  within 
the  ability  of  those  who  have  no  other  way  of  serving  their 
generation.  A  country  gentleman  of  very  moderate  education, 
and  who  has  little  to  spare  from  his  fortune,  by  learning  so  much 
of  the  poor  law  as  is  to  be  found  in  Dr.  Bum's  Justice,  and  by 
furnishing  himself  with  a  knowledge  of  the  prices  of  labour  am! 
provision,  so  as  to  be  able  to  estimate  the  exigencies  of  a  family, 


142  PROFESSIONAL  ASSISTANCE. 

and  what  is  to  be  expected  from  their  industry,  may,  in  this  way 
place  out  the  one  talent  committed  to  him  to  great  account. 

3.  Of  ail  private  professions,  that  of  medicine  puts  it  in  a  man's 
power  to  do  the  most  good  at  the  least  expense.  Health,  which 
is  precious  to  all,  is  to  the  poor  invaluable  ;  and  their  complaints, 
as  agues,  rheumatisms,  &c.  are  often  such  as  yield  to  medicine. 
And,  with  respect  to  the  expense,  drugs  at  first  hand  cost  little, 
and  advice  costs  nothing,  where  it  is  only  bestowed  upon  those 
who  could  not  afford  to  pay  for  it. 

4.  The  rights  of  the  poor  are  not  so  important  or  intricate  as 
their  contentions  are  violent  and  ruinous.  A  Lawyer  or  Attorney, 
of  tolerable  knowledge  in  his  profession,  has  eonmionly  judgment 
enough  to  adjust  these  disputes,  with  all  the  effect,  and  without 
the  expense  of  a  law-suit;  and  he  may  be  said  to  give  a  poor  man 
twenty  pounds,  who  prevents  his  throwing  it  away  upon  law.  A 
legal  man,  whether  of  the  profession  or  not,  who,  together  with  a 
spirit  of  conciliation,  possesses  the  confidence  of  his  neighbour- 
hood, will  be  much  resorted  to  for  this  purpose,  especially  since 
the  great  increase  of  costs  has  produced  a  general  dread  of  going 
to  law. 

Nor  is  this  line  of  beneficence  confined  to  arbitration.  Season- 
able counsel  coming  with  the  weight  which  the  reputation  of  the 
adviser  gives  it,  will  often  keep  or  extricate  the  rash  and  unin- 
formed out  of  great  difficulties. 

Lastly,  I  know  not  a  more  exalted  charity  than  that  which 
presents  a  shield  against  the  rapacity  or  persecution  of  a  tyrant. 

5.  Betwixt  argument  and  authority  (I  mean  that  authority 
which  flows  from  voluntary  respect,  and  attends  upon  sanctity 
and  disinterestedness  of  character)  something  may  be  done, 
amongst  the  lower  orders  of  mankind,  towards  the  regulation  of 
their  conduct,  and  the  satisfaction  of  their  thoughts.  This 
office  belongs  to  the  ministers  of  religion  ;  or,  rather,  whoever 
undertakes  it  becomes  a  minister  of  religion.  The  inferiour 
clergy,  who  are  nearly  upon  a  level  with  the  common  sort  of  their 
parishioners,  and  who  on  that  account  gain  an  easier  admission  to 
their  society  and  confidence,  have  in  this  respect  more  in  their 
power  than  their  superiours:  the  discreet  use  of  this  power 
constitutes  one  of  the  most  respectable  functions  of  human  na- 
ture. 


PECUNIARY  BOUNTY.  |^g 


CHAPTER  V. 


CHARITY. 


PECUNIARY    BOUNTY. 


I.  The  obligation  to  bestow  relief  upon  the  poor. 

II.  The  manner  of  bestoiving  it. 

III.  The  pretences  by  which  men  excuse  themselves  from  it. 


I.  The  obligation  to  bestow  relief  upon  the  poor. 

THEY  who  rank  pity  amongst  the  original  impulses  of  our 
nature,  rightly  contend,  that,  when  this  principle  prompts  us  to 
the  relief  of  human  misery,  it  indicates  the  divine  intention,  and 
our  duty.  Indeed  the  same  conclusion  is  deducible  from  the  ex- 
istence of  the  passion,  whatever  account  be  given  of  its  origin. 
Whether  it  be  an  instinct  or  a  habit,  it  is  in  fact  a  property  ofour 
nature,  which  God  appointed  :  and  the  final  cause  for  which  it 
was  appointed,  is  to  afford  to  the  miserable,  in  the  compassion  of 
their  fellow  creatures,  a  remedy  for  those  inequalities  and  dis- 
tresses which  God  foresaw  that  many  must  be  exposed  to,  under 
every  general  rule  for  the  distribution  of  property. 

Beside  this,  the  poor  have  a  claim  founded  in  the  law  of  nature 
which  may  be  thus  explained.  All  things  were  originally  common! 
No  one  being  able  to  produce  a  charter  from  heaven,  had  any  better 
title  to  a  particular  possession  than  his  next  neighbour.  There  were 
reasons  for  mankind's  agreeing  upon  a  separation  of  this  common 
fund ;  and  God  for  these  reasous  is  presumed  to  have  ratified  it.  But 
this  separation  was  made  and  consented  to,  upon  the  expectation 
and  condition  that  every  one  should  have  left  a  sufficiency  for  his 
subsistence,  or  the  means  of  procuring  it ;  and  as  no  fixed  laws 
for  the  regulation  of  property  can  be  so  contrived,  as  to  provide 
for  the  relief  of  every  case  and  distress  which  mav  arise,  these 


£44  PECUNIARY  BOUNTY. 

eases  and  distresses,  when  their  right  and  share  in  the  common 
stock  were  given  up  or  taken  from  them,  were  supposed  to  be  left 
to  the  voluntary  bounty  of  those  who  might  be  acquainted  with 
the  exigencies  of  their  situation,  and  in  the  way  of  affording  as- 
sistance. And,  therefore,  when  the  partition  of  property  is 
rigidly  maintained  against  the  claims  of  indigence  and  distress, 
it  is  maintained  in  opposition  to  the  intention  of  those  who  made 
it,  and  to  his,  who  is  the  Supreme  Proprietor  of  every  thing,  and 
who  has  filled  the  world  with  plenteousness  for  the  sustentation 
and  comfort  of  all  whom  he  sends  into  it. 

The  Christian  scriptures  are  more  copious  and  explicit  upon 
this  duty  than  upon  almost  any  other.  The  description  which 
Christ  hath  left  us  of  the  proceedings  of  the  last  day,  establishes 
the  obligation  of  bounty,  beyond  controversy.  "  When  the  Son 
of  Man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  all  the  holy  angels  with 
him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his  glory,  and  before 
him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations ;  and  he  shall  separate  them 

one  from  another Then  shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  his 

right  hand,  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom 
prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world  :  For  1  was 
an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat :  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave 
me  drink :  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in :  naked,  and  ye 
clothed  me :  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me :  I  was  in  prison, 
and  ye  came  unto  me — And  inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  to  one 
of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me"*  It 
is  not  necessary  to  understand  this  passage  as  a  literal  account  of 
what  will  actually  pass  on  that  day.  Supposing  it  only  a  scenical 
description  of  the  rules  and  principles,  by  which  the  Supreme 
Arbiter  of  our  destiny  will  regulate  his  decisions,  it  conveys  the 
same  lesson  to  us  ;  it  equally  demonstrates  of  how  great  value 
and  importance  these  duties  in  the  sight  of  God  are,  and  what 
stress  will  be  laid  upon  them.  The  apostles  also  describe  this 
virtue  as  propitiating  the  divine  favour  in  an  eminent  degree. 
And  these  recommendations  have  produced  their  effect.  It  does 
not  appear  that,  before  the  times  of  Christianity,  an  infirmary, 
hospital,  or  public  eharity  of  any  kind,  existed  in  the  world ; 
whereas  most  countries  in  Christendom  have  long  abounded  with 
these  institutions.    To  which  may  be  added,  that  a  spirit  of  pri 

•Matt.  xxv.  31. 


PECUNIARY  BOUNTY.  14g 

vate  liberality  seem*  to  flourish  ami  1st  the  decay  of  many  other 
virtues:  not  to  n  "itiivi  the  le^al  provision  for  the  poor,  which 
obtains  in  this  country,  and  which  was  unknown  and  unthought 
of  by  the  most  humanized  nations  of  antiquity. 

St.  Paul  adds  upon  the  subject  an  excellent  direction ;  and 
which  is  practicable  by  all  who  have  any  thing  to  give;  •'  Upon 
the  6rst  day  of  the  week  (or  any  other  stated  time)  let  every 
one  of  you  lay  by  in  store,  as  God  hath  prospered  him."  By 
which  I  understand  St.  Paul  to  recommend  what  is  the  very 
thing  wanting  with  most  men,  the  being  charitable-  upon  a  ylan$ 
that  is,  upon  a  deliberate  comparison  of  our  fortunes  with  the 
reasonable  expenses  and  expectation  of  our  families,  to  compute 
what  we  can  spare,  and  to  lay  by  so  much  for  charitable  pur- 
poses in  some  mode  or  other.  The  mode  will  be  a  consideration 
afterwards. 

The  effect  which  Christianity  produced  upon  some  of  its  first 
converts,  was  «uch  as  might  be  looked  for  from  a  divine  religion, 
conning  with  full  force  and  miraculous  evidence  upon  the  mu~ 
scienees  of  mankind.  It  overwhelmed  all  worldly  considerations 
in  the  expectation  of  a  more  important  existence.  "  And  the 
multitude  of  them  that  believed  were  of  one  heart  and  of  one  soul  ; 
neither  said  any  of  them  that  aught  of  the  things  which  he  pos- 
sessed was  his  own  ;  but  they  had  all  things  in  common. — Neither 
was  there  any  among  them  that  lacked ;  for  as  many  as  were 
possessors  of  land  or  houses  sold  them,  and  brought  the  prices 
of  the  things  that  were  sold,  and  laid  them  down  at  the  Apostles* 
feet  ;  and  distribution  was  made  unto  every  man  according  as  he 
had  need.'5     Acts,  iv.  32. 

Nevertheless,  this  community  of  goods,  however  it  manifested 
the  sincere  zeal  of  the  primitive  Christians,  is  no  precedent  for 
our  imitation.  Tt  was  f  onfined  to  the  church  at  Jerusalem  ;  con- 
tinued not  long  there  ;  was  never  enjoined  upon  any ;  (Acts,  v.  4.) 
and,  although  it  might  suit  with  the  particular  circumstances  of 
a  small  and  select  society,  is  altogether  impracticable  in  a  large 
and  mixed  community. 

The  conduct  of  the  Apostles  upon  the  occasion  deserves  to  be 
noticed.  Their  followers  laid  down  their  fortunes  at  their  feet : 
but  so  far  were  they  from  taking  advantage  of  this  unlimited  con- 
fidence, to  enrich  themselves,  or  to  establish  their  own  authority, 
that  they  soon  after  got  rid  of  this  businoss,  as  inconsistent  with 
19 


146  PECUNIARY  BOUNTY. 

the  main  object  of  their  mission,  and  transferred  the  custody  and 
management  of  the  public  fund  to  deacons,  elected  to  that  office 
by  the  people  at  large.     (Acts,  vi.) 

II.  The  manner  of  bestowing  bounty  j — or  different  kinds  of 
chanty. 

Every  question  between  the  different  kinds  of  charity  supposes 
the  sum  bestowed  to  be  the  same. 

There  are  three  kinds  of  charity  which  prefer  a  claim  t» 
attention. 

The  first,  and  in  my  judgment  one  of  the  best,  is  to  give  stated 
and  considerable  suras,  by  way  of  pension  or  annuity,  to  individ- 
uals or  families,  with  whose  behaviour  and  distress  we  ourselves 
are  acquainted.  When  I  speak  of  considerable  sums,  I  mean  only 
that  five  pounds,  or  any  other  sum,  given  at  once,  or  divided 
amongst  five  or  fewer  families,  will  do  more  good  than  the  same 
sum  distributed  amongst  a  greater  number  in  shillings  or  half 
crowns ;  and  that,  because  it  is  more  likely  to  be  properly  applied 
by  the  persons  who  receive  it.  A  poor  fellow,  who  can  fiud  no 
better  use  for  a  shilling  than  to  drink  his  benefactor's  health,  and 
purchase  half  an  hour's  recreation  for  himself,  would  hardly 
break  into  a  guinea  for  any  such  purpose,  or  be  so  improvident,  as 
not  to  lay  it  by  for  an  occasion  of  importance,  e.  g.  for  his  rent,  his 
clothing,  fuel,  or  stock  of  winter's  provision.  It  is  a  still  greater 
recommendation  of  this  kind  of  charity,  that  pensions  and  annui- 
ties, which  are  paid  regularly,  and  can  be  expected  at  the  time, 
are  the  only  way  by  which  we  can  prevent  one  part  of  a  poor 
man's  sufferings, — the  dread  of  want. 

2.  But  as  this  kind  of  charity  supposes  that  proper  objects  of 
such  expensive  benefactions  fall  within  our  private  knowledge 
and  observation,  which  does  not  happen  to  all,  a  second  method 
of  doing  good,  which  is  in  every  one's  power  who  has  the  money 
to  spare,  is  hy  subscription  to  public  charities.  Public  charities 
admit  of  this  argument  in  their  favour,  that  your  money  goes 
farther  towards  attaining  the  end  for  which  it  is  given,  than  it 
can  do  by  any  private  and  separate  beneficence.  A  guinea,  for 
example,  contributed  to  an  infirmary,  becomes  the  means  of  pro- 
viding one  patient  at  least  with  a  physician,  surgeon,  apothecary, 
with  medicine,  diet,  lodging,  and  suitable  attendance ;  which  is 
not  the  tenth  part  of  what  the  same  assistance,  if  it  could  be  pro- 


PECUNIARY  BOUNTY.  447 

cured  at  all,  would  cost  to  a  sick  person  or  family,  in  any  other 
situation. 

3.  The  last,  and,  compared  with  the  former,  the  lowest  exer- 
tion of  benevolence,  is  in  the  relief  of  beggars.  Nevertheless,  I 
by  no  means  approve  the  indiscriminate  rejection  of  all  who  im- 
plore our  arms  in  this  way.  Some  may  perish  by  such  a  conduct. 
Men  are  sometimes  overtaken  by  distress,  for  which  all  other 
relief  would  come  too  late.  Beside  which,  resolutions  of  this 
kind  compel  us  to  offer  such  violence  to  our  humanity,  as  may  go 
near,  in  a  little  while,  to  suffocate  the  principle  itself;  which  is 
a  very  serious  consideration.  A  good  man,  if  he  do  not  surrender 
himself  to  his  feelings  without  reserve,  will  at  least  lend  an  ear 
to  importunities,  which  come  accompanied  with  outward  attesta- 
tions of  distress  ;  and,  after  a  patient  audience  of  the  complaint, 
will  direct  himself,  not  so  much  by  any  previous  resolution  which 
he  may  have  formed  upon  the  subject,  as  by  the  circumstances 
and  credibility  of  the  account  that  he  receives. 

There  are  other  species  of  charity  well  contrived  to  make  the 
money  expended  go  far :  such  as  keeping  down  the  price  of  fuel 
or  provision,  in  case  of  a  monopoly  or  temporary  scarcity,  by 
purchasing  the  articles  at  the  best  market,  and  retailing  them  at 
prime  cost,  or  at  a  small  loss ;  or  the  adding  of  a  bounty  to  par- 
ticular species  of  labour,  when  the  price  is  accidentally  de- 
pressed. 

The  proprietors  of  large  estates  have  it  in  their  power  to  facili- 
tate the  maintenance,  and  thereby  to  encourage  the  establishment 
t>f  families  (which  is  one  of  the  noblest  purposes  to  which.th* 
rich  and  great  can  convert  their  endeavours,)  by  building  cottages, 
splitting  farms,  erecting  manufactures,  cultivating  wastes,  em- 
banking the  sea,  draining  marshes,  and  other  expedients,  which 
the  situation  of  each  estate  points  out.  If  the  profits  of  these  un- 
dertakings do  not  repay  the  expense,  let  the  authors  of  them 
place  the  difference  to  the  account  of  charity.  It  is  true  of  almost 
all  such  projects,  that  the  public  is  a  gainer  by  them,  whatever 
the  owner  be.  And  where  the  loss  can  be  spared,  this  considera- 
tion is  sufficient. 

It  is  become  a  question  of  some  importance,  under  what  cir- 
cumstances works  of  charity  ought  to  be  done  in  private,  and 
when  they  may  be  made  public  without  detracting  from  the  merit 
<af  the  action,  if  indeed  they  ever  may;  the  Author  of  our  religion 


|4<g  PECUNIARY  BOUNTY. 

having  delivered  a  rule  upon  this  subject  which  seems  to  enjoin 
A/  universal  secrecy  ?     fi  When  thou    doest  arms,  let  not  thy  left 

^  land  know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth  ;  that  thy  arms  may  be  in 
secret,  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret,  bimselj  shall  reward 
thee  openly."  (Matt.  vi.  3.  4.)  From  the  preamble  to  this 
prohibition  I  think  it,  however,  plain,  that  our  Saviour's  sole 
design  was  to  forbid  ostentation,  and  all  publishing  of  good  works 
which  proceeds  from  that  motive.  "  Take  heed  that  ye  do  not 
^  your  arms  before  men,  to  be  seen  of  them;  otherwise  ye  have  no 
reward   of  your  Father,  which  is  in   heaveu  :  therefore,  when 

t  thou  doest  thiue  arms,  do  not  sound  a  trumpet  before  thee,  as  (he 
hypocrites  do,  in  the  synagogues  and  in  the  streets,  that  they  way 
have  glory  of  men.     Verily  1  say   unto   thee,  they    have    their 

b  reward."  v.  2.  There  are  motives  for  the  doing  our  arms  in 
public,  besides  those  of  ostentation,  with  which  therefore  our  Sav- 
iour's rule  has  no  concern:  sm-h  as  to  testify  our  approbation  of 
some  particular  species  of  charily,  and  to  recommend  it  toothers; 
to  take  oft'  the  prejudice  which  the  want,  or,  which  is-  the  same 
thing,  the  suppression  of  our  name  in  the  list  of  contributors 
might  excte  against  the  charity,  or  against  ourselves.  And.  so 
long  as  these  motives  are  tree  from  any  mixture  of  vanity,  ihey 
are  in  no  danger  of  invading  our  Saviour's  prohibition  :  they 
rather  seem  to  comply  with  another  direction  which  he  has  left 
us :  ik  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your 
good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  If  it 
be  necessary  to  propose  a  precise  distinction  upon  the  subject,  I 
can  think  of  none  better  than  the  following.  When  our  bounty  is 
heyond  our  fortune  and  station,  that  is,  when  it  is  more  than 
could  he  expected  from  us,  our  charity  should  be  private,  if  pri- 
vacy be  practicable:  w  hen  it  is  not  more  than  might  be  expected, 
it  may  lie  public  :  for  we  cannot  hope  to  influence  others  to  the 
imitation  of  extraordinary  generosity,  and  therefore  want,  in  the 
former  case,  the  only  justifiable  reason  for  making  it  public. 

Having  thus  described  several  different  exertions  of  charity,  it 
may  not  be  improper  to  take  notice  of  a  species  of  liberality, 
which  is  not  charity,  in  any  sense  of  the  word  :  I  mean  the  giving 
of  entertainments  or  liquor,  for  the  sake  of  popularity;  or  the 
rewarding,  treating,  and  maintaining,  the  companions  of  our  di- 
versions, as  hunters,  shooters,  fishers  and  the  like.  I  do  not  say 
that  this  is  criminal ;  I  only  say  tharis  not  charity ;  and  that  we 


PECUNIARY  BOUNTY-  ±q.Q 

are  not  to  suppose,  because  we  give,  and  give  to  the  poor,  that  it 
will  stand  in  the  place,  or  supercede  the  obligation,  of  more 
meritorious  and  disinterested  bouuty. 

III.  The  pretences  by  which  men  excuse  themselves  from  giving 
to  the  poor, 

1.  <'■  That  they  have  nothing  to  spare,"  i.  e.  nothing  for  which 
they  have  not  provided  some  other  use;  nothing  which  their  plan 
or  expense,  together  with  the  savings  they  have  resolved  to  lay 
by,  will  not  exhaust :  never  reflecting  whether  it  be  iu  their  power, 
or  that  it  is  their  duty  to  retrench  their  expenses,  and  contract 
their  plan,  "  that  they  may  have  to  give  to  them  that  need ;"  or, 
rather,  that  this  ought  to  have  been  part  of  their  plan  origin- 
ally 

3.  "  That  they  have  families  of  their  own,  and  that  charity 
begins  at  home."  The  extent  of  this  plea  will  be  considered, 
when  we  eome  to  explain  the  duty  of  parents. 

3.  "  That  charity  does  not  consist  in  giving  money,  but  in 
benevolence,  philanthropy,  love  to  all  mankind,  goodness  of 
heart,"  &c.  Hear  St.  James  :  "  If  a  brother  or  sister  be  naked, 
and  destitute  of  daily  food,  and  one  of  you  say  unto  them,  Depart 
in  peace,  be  ye  warmed  and  filled,  notwithstanding  ye  give  them 
not  those  things  which  are  needful  to  the  body,  what  doth  it  profit  ?" 
(James,  ii.  15,  16.) 

4.  "  That  giving  to  the  poor  is  not  mentioned  in  St.  Paul's 
description  of  chanty,  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  his  first 
Epistle  to  the  Corinthians."  This  is  not  a  description  of  charity, 
but  of  good-nature  ;  and  it  is  not  necessary  that  every  duty  be 
mentioned  in  every  place. 

5.  "  That  they  pay  the  poor  rates  "  They  might  as  well 
allege  that  they  pay  their  debts  ;  for  the  poor  have  the  same 
right  to  that  portion  of  a  man's  property  which  the  laws  assign 
to  i hem,  (hat  the  man  himself  has  to  the  remainder. 

6.  "That  they  employ  many  poor  persons:" — for  their  own 
sake,  not  the  poors'; — otherwise  it  is  a  good  plea. 

7.  *k  That  the  poor  do  not  suffer  so  much  as  we  imagine :  that 
education  and  habit  have  reconciled  them  to  the  evils  of  their 
condition,  and  make  them  easy  under  it."  Habit  can  never 
reconcile  human  nature  to  the  extremities  of  cold,  hunger,  and 
thirst,  any  more  than  it  can  reconcile  the  hand  to  the  touch  of  a 


i 


„/ 


|50  RESENTMENT. 

red-hot  iron :  besides,  the  question  is  not,  how  unhappy  any  one 
is,  but  how  much  more  happy  we  can  make  him. 

S.  "  That  these  people,  give  them  what  you  will,  will  never 
thank  you,  or  think  of  you  for  it."  In  the  first  place,  this  is  not 
true :  in  the  second  place,  it  was  not  for  the  sake  of  their  thanks 
that  you  relieved  them. 

9.  "  That  we  are  liable  to  be  imposed  upon."  If  a  due  inquiry 
be  made,  our  merit  is  the  same  :  beside  that,  the  distress  is  gen- 
erally real,  although  the  cause  be  untruly  stated. 

10.  "That  they  should  apply  to  their  parishes."  This  is  not 
always  practicable  :  to  which  we  may  add,  that  there  are  many 
requisites  to  a  comfortable  subsistence,  which  parish  relief  does 
not  supply;  and  that  there  are  some,  who  would  suffer  almost  as 
much  from  receiving  parish  relief  as  by  the  want  of  it ;  and,  lastly, 
that  there  are  many  modes  of  charity  to  whieh  this  answer  does 
not  relate  at  all. 

11.  "  That  giving  money  encourages  idleness  and  vagrancy." 
This  is  true  only  of  injudicious  and  indiscriminate  generosity. 

12.  "  That  we  have  too  many  objects  of  charity  at  home,  to 
bestow  any  thing  upon  strangers ;  or  that  there  are  other  charities, 
which  are  more  useful,  or  stand  in  greater  need."  The  value  of 
this  excuse  depends  entirely  upon  the  fact,  whether  we  actually 
relieve  those  neighbouring  objects,  and  contribute  to  those  other 
charities. 

Besides  all  these  excuses,  pride,  or  prudery,  or  delicacy,  or 
love  of  ease,  keep  one  half  of  the  world  out  of  the  way  of  observ- 
ing what  the  other  half  suffer. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

RESENTMENT. 

RESENTMENT  may  be  distinguished  into  anger  and  re- 
venge. 

By  anger,  I  mean  the  pain  we  suffer  upon  the  receipt  of  an 
injury  or  affront,  with  the  usual  effects  of  that  pain  upon  our- 
selves. 


ANGER. 


151 


By  revenge,  the  inflicting  of  pain  upon  the  person  who  has  iri- 
jured  or  offended  us,  further  than  the  just  ends  of  punishment  or 
reparation  require. 

Anger  prompts  to  revenge;  but  it  is  possible  to  suspend  the 
effect,  when  we  cannot  altogether  quell  the  principle.  We  are 
bound  also  to'  endeavour  to  qualify  and  correct  the  principle  it- 
self. So  that  our  duty  requires  two  different  applications  of  the 
mind :  and,  for  that  reason,  anger  and  revenge  may  be  considered 
separately. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ANGER. 

«  BE  ye  angry  and  sin  not ;"  therefore  all  anger  is  not  sinful : 
I  suppose,  because  some  degree  of  it,  and  upon  some  occasions, 
is  inevitable. 

It  becomes  sinful,  or  contradicts,  however,  the  rule  of  scrip- 
ture,  when  it  is  conceived  upon  slight  and  inadequate  provoca- 
tions, and  when  it  continues  long. 

1.  When  it  is  conceived  upon  slight  provocations ;  for 
"  charity  suffereth  long,  is  not  easily  provoked."—"  Let  every 
man  be  slow  to  anger."  Peace,  long  suffering,  gentleness, 
meekness,  are  enumerated  among  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  Gal. 
v.  22,  and  compose  the  true  Christian  temper,  as  to  this  article 
of  duty. 

2.  When  it  continues  long;  for  "let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon 
your  wrath." 

These  precepts,  and  all  reasoning  indeed  upon  the  subject,  sup- 
pose the  passion  of  anger  to  be  within  our  power :  and  this  power 
consists  not  so  much  in  any  faculty  we  possess  of  appeasing  our 
wrath  at  the  time  (for  we  are  passive  under  the  smart,  which  an 
injury  or  affront  occasions,  and  all  we  can  then  do  is  to  prevent 
its  breaking  out  into  action,)  as  in  so  mollifying  our  minds  by 
habits  of  just  reflection,  as  to  be  less  irritated  by  impressions  of 
injury,  and  to  be  sooner  pacified. 


15%  ANGER. 

Reflections  proper  for  this  purpose,  and  which  may  be  called 
the  sedatives  of  anger  are  the  following:  the  possibility  of  mis- 
taking the  motives  from  which  the  conduct  that  offends  us  pro- 
ceeded ;  how  often  our  offences  have  been  the  effect  of  inadver- 
tency, when  they  were  construed  into  indications  of  malice;  the 
inducement  which  prompted  our  adversary  to  act  as  he  did,  and 
how  powerfully  the  same  inducement  has,  at  one  time  or  other, 
operated  upon  ourselves;  that  he  is  suffering  perhaps  under  a 
contrition,  which  he  is  ashamed  or  wants  opportunity  to  confess  ; 
and  how  ungenerous  it  is  to  triumph  by  coldness  or  insult  over  a 
spirit  already  humbled  in  secret;  that  the  returns  of  kindness 
are  sweet,  and  that  there  is  neither  honour,  nor  virtue,  nor  use  in 
resisting  them — for  some  persons  think  themselves  bound  to  cher- 
ish and  keep  alive  their  indignation,  when  they  find  it  dying 
away  of  itself.  We  may  remember  that  others  have  their  passions, 
their  prejudices,  their  favour  te  iiims,  their  fears,  their  cautions, 
their  interests,  their  sudden  imputes,  their  varieties  of  apprehen- 
sion, as  well  as  we  ;  we  may  recollect  what  hath  sometimes  passed 
in  our  minds,  when  we  have  got  on  the  wrong  side  of  a  quarrel, 
and  imagine  the  same  to  be  passing  in  our  adversary's  mind  now  ; 
when  we  became  sensible  «of  our  misbehaviour,  what  palliations 
we  perceived  in  it,  and  expected  others  toper<je«\e;  how  we 
were  affected  by  the  kindness,  and  felt  the  superiority  of  a  gen- 
erous reception  and  ready  forgiveness;  how  persecution  revived 
our  spirits  with  our  enmi<y,  and  seemed  to  justify  the  conduct  in 
ourselves  which  we  before  blamed.  Add  to  this,  the  indecency 
of  extravagant  anger;  bow  it  renders  us.  whilst  it  lasts,  the 
scorn  and  sport  of  all  about  us,  of  which  it  leaves  us,  when  it 
ceases,  sensible  and  ashamed  ;  the  inconveniences,  and  irretriev- 
able misconduct  into  which  our  irascibility  has  sometimes  be- 
trayed us;  the  friendships  it  has  lost  us;  the  distresses  and 
embarrassments  in  which  we  have  been  involved  by  it;  and 
the  sore  repentance  which  on  one  account  or  other  it  always 
costs  us. 

But  the  reflection  calculated  above  all  others  to  allay  the 
haughtiness  of  temper  which  is  ever  finding  out  provocations, 
and  which  renders  anger  so  impetuous,  is  that  which  the  gospel 
proposes;  namely,  that  we  ourselves  are,  or  shortly  shall  be, 
suppliants  for  mercy  and  pardon  at  the  judgment-seat  of  God. 
Imagine  our  secret  sins  disclosed  and  brought  to  light ;  imagine 


REVENGE.  153 

us  thus  humbled  and  exposed  ;  trembling  under  the  hand  of  God  ; 
easting  ourselves  on  his  compassion  ;  crying  out  for  mercy- 
imagine  such  a  creature  to  talk  of  satisfaction  and  revenge  ;  re- 
fusing to  be  intreated,  disdaining  to  forgive  ;  extreme  to  mark  and 
to  resent  what  is  done  amiss  :— imagine,  I  say,  this,  and  you  can 
hardly  feign  to  yourself  an  instance  of  more  impious  and  unnat- 
ural airogance. 

The  point  is,  to  habituate  ourselves  to  these  reflections,  till 
they  rise  up  of  their  own  accord  when  they  are  wanted,  that  is, 
instantly  upon  the  receipt  of  an  injury  or  affront,  and  with  such 
force  and  colouring,  as  both  to  mitigate  the  paroxysms  of  our 
anger  at  the  time,  and  at  length  to  produce  an  alteration  in  the 
temper  and  disposition  itself. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

REVENGE. 

ALL  pain  occasioned  to  another  in  consequence  of  an  offence, 
or  injury  received  from  him,  further  than  what  is  calculated  to 
procure  reparation,  to  promote  the  just  ends  of  punishment,  is  so 
much  revenge. 

There  can  be  no  difficulty  in  knowing  when  we  occasion  pain 
to  another;  nor  much  in  distinguishing  whether  we  do  so,  with  a 
view  only  to  the  ends  of  punishment,  or  from  revenge ;  for  in 
the  one  case  we  proceed  with  reluctance,  in  the  other  with 
pleasure. 

It  is  highly  probable  from  the  light  of  nature,  that  a  passion, 
which  seeks  its  gratification  immediately  and  expressly  in  giving 
pain,  is  disagreeable  to  the  benevolent  will  and  counsels  of  the 
Creator.  Other  passions  and  pleasures  may,  and  often  do  pro- 
duce pain  to  some  one ;  but  then  pain  is  not,  as  it  is  here,  the 
object  of  the  passion,  and  the  direct  cause  of  the  pleasure.  This 
probability  is  converted  into  certainty,  if  we  give  credit  te  the 
20 


154  BEVENGE. 

authority  which  dictated  the  several  passages  of  the  Christian 
scriptures  that  condemn  revenge,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing, 
which  enjoin  forgiveness. 

We  will  set  down  the  principal  of  these  passages;  and  endeav- 
our to  collect  from  them,  what  conduct  upon  the  whole  is  allowed 
towards  an  enemy,  and  what  is  forbidden. 

"  If  ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses,  your  heavenly  Father  will 
also  forgive  you  :  but  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses,  nei- 
ther will  your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses." — "And  his  lord 
was  wroth  and  delivered  him  to  the  tormentors,  till  he  should 
pay  all  that  was  due  unto  him:  so  likewise  shall  my  heavenly 
Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every 
one  his  brother  their  trespasses." — "  Put  on  bowels  of  mercy, 
kindness,  humbleness  of  mind,  meekness,  long  suffering;  forbear- 
ing one  another,  forgiving  one  another,  if  any  man  have  a  quar- 
rel against  any  ;  even  as  Christ  forgave  you,  so  also  do  ye.'' — 
"  Be  palient  towards  all  men;  see  that  none  render  evil  for  evil 
unto  any  man.*' — "  Avenge  not  yourselves,  but  rather  give  place 
unto  wrath  :  for  it  is  written,  Vengeance  is  mine  ;  I  will  repay, 
saith  the  Lord.  Therefore,  if  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him;  if 
he  thirst,  give  him  drink  ;  for,  in  so  doing,  thou  shaltheap  coals 
of  fire  on  his  head.  Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil 
with  good."* 

I  think  it  evident,  from  some  of  these  passages  taken  separate- 
ly, and  still  more  so  from  all  of  them  together,  that  revenge,  as 
described  in  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  is  forbidden  in  every 
degree,  under  all  forms,  and  upon  every  occasion.  We  are  like- 
wise forbidden  to  refuse  to  an  enemy  even  the  most  imperfect 
right;  "if  he  hunger,  feed  him;  if  he  thirst  give  him  drink,"f 
which  are  examples  of  imperfect  rights.  If  one  who  has  offended 
us,  solicit  from  us  a  vote  to  which  his  qualifications  entitle  him, 
we  may  not  refuse  it  from  motives  of  resentment,  or  the  remem- 
brance of  what  we  have  suffered  at  his  hands.      His  right,  and 

*  Matt.  vi.  14,  15.  xviii.  34,  35.  Col  iii.  12, 13.  Thess.  v.  14,  15. 
Rom.  xii.  19,  20,  21. 

f  See  also  Exodus,  xxiii.  4  "  If  thou  meet  thine  enemy's  ox,  or  his  ass, 
going  astray,  thou  shalt  surely  bring  it  back  to  him  again :  if  thou  see  the 
ass  of  him  that  hateth  tliee,  lying  under  his  burden,  and  wouldest  forbear  la 
help  him,  thou  shalt  surely  help  with  him." 


REVENGE.  1Q% 

our  obligation  which  follows  the  right,  are  not  altered  by  his  en- 
mity to  us,  or  by  ours  to  him. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  do  not  conceive,  that  these  prohibitions 
were  intended  to  interfere  with  the  punishment  or  prosecution  of 
public  offenders.  In  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  our 
Saviour  tells  his  disciples,  "  If  thy  brother  who  has  trespassed 
against  thee  neglect  to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be  unto  thee  as 
an  heathen  man,  and  a  publican."  Immediately  after  this,  when 
St.  Peter  asked  him,  "  How  oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me, 
and  I  forgive  him  ?  till  seven  times  ?"  Christ  replied,  "  1  say 
not  unto  thee  until  seven  times,  but  until  seventy  times  seven  ;'' 
that,  is,  as  often  as  he  repeats  the  offence.  From  these  two  ad- 
joining passages  compared  together,  we  are  authorized  to  con- 
clude that  the  forgiveness  of  an  enemy,  is  not  inconsistent  with 
the  proceeding  against  him,  as  a  public  offender;  and  that  the 
discipline  established  in  religious  or  civil  societies,  for  the  re- 
straint or  punishment  of  criminals,  ought  to  be  upheld. 

If  the  magistrate  be  not  tied  down  by  these  prohibitions  from 
the  execution  of  his  office,  neither  is  the  prosecutor;  for  the 
office  of  the  prosecutor  is  as  necessary  as  that  of  the  magistrate. 

Nor,  by  parity  of  reason,  are  private  persons  withheld  from 
the  correction  of  vice,  when  it  is  in  their  power  to  exercise  it; 
provided  they  be  assured  that  it  is  the  guilt  which  provokes  them, 
and  not  the  injury ;  and  that,  their  motives  are  pure  from  all  mix- 
ture and  every  particle  of  that  spirit  which  delights  and  triumphs 
iu  the  humiliation  of  an  adversary. 

Thus,  it  is  no  breach  of  Christian  charity,  to  withdraw  our 
company  or  civility,  when  the  same  tends  to  discountenance  any 
vicious  practice.  This  is  one  branch  of  that  extrajudicial  disci- 
pline, which  supplies  the  defects  and  the  remissness  of  law  :  ;!nd 
is  expressly  authorized  by  St.  Paul :  (l  Cor.  v.  11.)  ';  But  now  I 
have  written  unto  yon  not  to  keep  company,  if  any  man,  that  is 
called  a  brother,  be  a  fornicator,  or  covetous,  or  an  idolator,  or  a 
railer,  or  a  drunkard,  or  an  extortioner;  with  such  an  one,  no 
not  to  eat."  The  use  of  this  association  against  vice  continues 
to  be  experienced  in  one  remarkable  instance,  and  might  !;e  ex- 
tended with  good  effect,  to  others.  The  confederacy  amongst 
women  of  character,  to  exclude  from  their  society  kept  mistresses 
and  prostitutes,  contributes  more  perhaps  to  discourage  that 
condition  of  life,  and  prevents  greater  numbers  from  entering 


106  DUELLING. 

into  it,  than  all  the  considerations  of  prudence  and  religion  put 
together. 

We  are  likewise  allowed  to  practise  so  much  caution,  as  not  to 
put  ourselves  in  the  way  of  injury,  or  invite  the  repetition  of  it. 
If  a  servant  or  tradesman  has  cheated  us,  we  are  not  bound  to  trust 
hi  in  again;  for  this  is  to  encourage  him  in  his  dishonest  prac- 
tices, which  is  doing  him  much  harm. 

Where  a  benefit  can  be  conferred  only  upon  one  or  few,  and 
the  choice  of  the  person,  upon  whom  it  is  conferred,  is  a  proper 
object  of  favour,  we  are  at  liberty  to  prefer  those  who  have  not 
offended  us  to  those  who  have ;  the  contrary  being  no  where 
required. 

Christ,  who,  as  hath  been  well  demonstrated,*  estimated  vir- 
tues, by  their  solid  utility,  and  not  by  their  fashion  or  popularity, 
prefers  this  of  the  forgiveness  of  injuries  to  every  other.  He 
enjoins  it  oftener;  with  more  earnestness;  under  a  greater  vari- 
ety of  forms;  and  with  this  weighty  and  peculiar  circumstance, 
that  :>e  forgiveness  of  others  is  the  condition  upon  which  alone 
we  are  to  expect,  or  even  ask,  from  God,  forgiveness  for  our- 
selves. And  this  preference  is  justified  by  the  superiour  impor- 
tance of  the  virtue  itself.  The  feuds  and  animosities  in  families 
and  between  neighbours,  which  disturb  the  intercourse  of  human 
life  and  collectively  compose  half  the  misery  of  it,  have  their 
foundation  in  the  want  of  a  forgiving  temper;  and  can  never 
cease,  but  by  the  exercise  of  this  virtue,  on  one  side,  or  on  both. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DUELLING. 

DUELLING  as  a  punishment  is  absurd ;  because  it  is  an 
equal  chance,  whether  the  punishment  fall  upon  the  offender,  or 
the  pt  rson  oftencied.  Nor  is  it  much  better  as  a  reparation;  it 
being  difficult  to  explain  in  what  the  satisfaction  consists,  or  how 

*  See  a  View  of  the  Internal  Evidence  of  the  Christian  Religion. 


DUELLING.  157 

it  tends  to  undo  the  injury,  or  to  afford  a  compensation  for  the 
damage  already  sustained. 

The  truth  is,  it  is  not  considered  as  either.  A  law  of  honour 
having  annexed  the  imputation  of  cowardice  to  patience  under  an 
affront,  challenges  are  given  and  accepted  with  no  other  design 
than  to  prevent  or  wipe  off  this  suspicion  ;  without  malice  against 
the  adversary,  generally  without  a  wish  to  destroy  him,  or  any 
other  concern  than  to  preserve  the  duellist's  own  reputation  and 
reception  in  the  world. 

The  unreasonableness  of  this  rule  of  manners  is  one  considera- 
tion ;  the  duty  and  conduct  of  individuals,  while  such  a  rule  ex- 
ists, is  another. 

As  to  which,  the  proper  and  single  question  is  this,  whether  a 
regard  for  our  own  reputation  is,  or  is  not,  sufficient  to  justify  the 
taking  away  the  life  of  another  ? 

Murder  is  forbidden  ;  and  wherever  human  life  is  deliberately 
taken  away,  otherwise  than  by  public  authority,  there  is  murder. 
The  value  and  security  of  human  life  make  this  rule  necessary; 
for  I  do  not  see,  what  other  idea  or  definition  of  murder  can  be 
admitted,  which  will  not  let  in  so  mueh  private  violence,  as  to 
render  society  a  scene  of  peril  and  bloodshed. 

If  unauthorized  laws  of  honour  be  allowed  to  create  exceptions 
to  divine  prohibitions,  there  is  an  end  of  ail  moralify,  as  founded 
in  fhe  will  of  the  Deity  ;  and  the  obligation  of  every  duty  may  at 
one  time  or  other  be  discharged  by  the  caprice  and  fluctuations 
©f  fashion. 

"Btit  a  sense  of  shame  is  so  much  torture  ;  and  no  relief  pre- 
sents itself  otherwise  than  by  an  attempt  upon  the  life  of  our  ad- 
versary." What  then  ?  The  distress  which  men  suffer  by  the 
want  of  money  is  oftentimes  extreme,  and  no  resource  can  be  dis- 
covered but  that  of  removing  a  life,  which  stands  between  the  dis- 
tressed person  and  his  inheritance.  The  motive  in  this  case  is  as 
urgent,  and  the  means  much  the  same,  as  in  the  former  :  yet  this 
case  finds  no  advocate. 

Take  away  the  circumstance  of  the  duellist's  exposing  his  own 
life,  and  it  becomes  assassination;  add  this  circumstance  and 
what  difference  does  it  make  ?  None  but  this,  that  fewer  per- 
haps will  imitate  the  example,  and  human  life  will  be  somewhat 
more  safe,  when  it  cannot  be  attacked  without  equal  danger  to 
the  aggressor's  own.     Experience,  however,  proves  that  there  is 


£gg  DUELLING. 

fortitude  enough  in  most  men  to  undertake  this  hazard;  and 
were  it  otherwise,  the  defence,  at  best,  would  be  only  that  which 
a  highwayman  or  housebreaker  might  plead,  whose  attempt  had 
been  so  daring  and  desperate,  that  few  were  likely  to  repeat  the 
same. 

In  expostulating  with  the  duellist,  I  all  along  suppose  his  ad- 
versary to  fall.  Which  supposition  I  am  at  liberty  to  make, 
because,  if  he  have  no  right  to  kill  his  adversary,  he  has  none  to 
attempt  it. 

In  return,  I  forbear  from  applying  to  the  case  of  duelling  the 
Christian  principle  of  the  forgiveness  of  injuries  ;  because  it  is 
possible  to  suppose  the  injury  to  be  forgiven,  and  the  duellist  to 
act  entirely  from  a  concern  for  his  own  reputation  :  where  this  is 
not  the  case,  the  guilt  of  duelling  is  manifest,  and  is  greater. 

In  this  view  it  seems  unnecessary  to  distinguish  between  him 
who  gives,  and  him  who  aceepts  a  challenge  ;  for,  on  the  one  hand, 
they  incur  an  equal  hazard  of  destroying  life:  and,  on  the  other, 
both  aet  upon  the  same  persuasion,  (hat  what  they  do  is  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  recover  or  preserve  the  good  opinion  of  the 
world. 

Public  opinion  is  not  easily  controlled  by  civil  institutions  : 
for  which  reason  I  question  whether  any  regulations  can  be  con- 
trived of  sufficient  force  to  suppress  or  change  the  rule  of  honour, 
which  stigmatizes  all  scruples  about  duelling  with  the  reproach 
of  cowardice. 

The  insufficiency  of  the  redress  which  the  law  of  the  land 
affords,  for  those  injuries  which  chiefly  affect  a  man  in  his  sensi- 
bility and  reputation,  tempts  many  to  redress  themselves.  Pro- 
secutions for  such  offences,  by  the  trifling  damages  that  are 
recovered,  serve  only  to  make  the  sufferer  more  ridiculous. — This 
ought  to  be  remedied. 

For  the  army,  where  the  point  of  honour  is  cultivated  with 
exquisite  attention  and  refinement,  I  would  establish  a  Court  of 
Honour,  with  a  power  of  awarding  those  submissions  and  acknowl- 
edgements, which  it  is  generally  the  purpose  of  a  challenge  to 
obtain  ;  and  it  might  grow  into  a  fashion,  with  persons  of  rank  of 
all  professions,  to  refer  their  quarrels  to  this  tribunal. 

Duelling,  as  the  law  now  stands,  can  seldom  be  overtaken  by 
legal  punishment.  The  challenge,  appointment,  and  other  pre- 
vious circumstances,  which  indicate  the  intention  with  which  the 


LITIGATION.  159 

combatants  met,  being  suppressed,  nothing  appears  to  a  court  of 
justice,  but  the  actual  rencounter,  and  if  a  person  be  slain  when 
actually  fighting  with  his  adversary,  the  law  deems  his  death 
nothing  more  than  manslaughter. 


CHAPTER  X. 


LITIGATION. 


"  IF  it  be  possible,  live  peaceably  with  all  men ;"  which  pre- 
eept  contains  an  indirect  confession  that  this  is  not  always  possi- 
ble. 

The  instances*  in  the  fifth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew  are  rather 
to  be  understood  as  proverbial  methods  of  describing  the  general 
duties  of  forgiveness  and  benevolence,  and  the  temper  which  we 
ought  to  aim  at  acquiring,  than  as  directions  to  be  specifically 
observed ;  or  of  themselves  of  any  great  importance  to  be  observed. 
The  first  of  these  is,  "  If  thine  enemy  smite  thee  on  thy  right 
cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  also  ;"  yet,  when  one  of  the  officers 
struck  Jesus  with  the  palm  of  his  hand,  we  find  Jesus  rebuking 
him  for  the  outrage  with  becoming  indignation:  "If  I  have 
spoken  evil,  bear  witness  of  the  evil ;  but  if  well,  why  smitest 
thou  me  ?"  (John  xviii.  23.)  It  may  be  observed,  likewise,  that 
the  several  examples  are  drawn  from  instances  of  small  and  toler- 
able injuries.  A  rule  which  forbade  all  opposition  to  injury,  or 
defence  against  it,  could  have  no  other  effect,  than  to  put  the 
good  in  subjection  to  the  bad,  and  deliver  one  half  of  mankind  to 
the  depredation  of  the  other  half;  which  must  be  the  case,  so  long 
as  some  considered  themselves  as  bound  by  such  a  rule,  whilst 
others  despised  it.     St.  Paul,  though  no  one  inculcated  forgiveness 

*  "  Whosoever  shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  also; 
and  if  any  man  will  sue  thee  at  the  law,  and  take  away  thy  coat,  let  him  have 
thy  cloak  also  ;  and  whosoever  shall  compel  thee  to  go  a  mile,  go  with  hira 
twain." 


rf  dso. 


LITIGATION. 

and  forbearance  with  a  deeper  sense  of  the  value  and  obligation 
of  these  virtues,  did  not  interpret  either  of  them  to  require  an 
unresisting  submission  to  every  contumely,  or  a  neglect  of  the 
means  of  safety  and  self-defenee.  He  took  refuge  in  the  laws  of 
his  country,  and  in  the  privileges  of  a  Roman  citizen,  from  the 
conspiracy  of  the  Jews,  (Acts  xxv.  11.);  and  from  the  clandes- 
tine violence  of  the  chief  captain,  (Acts  xxii.  25.)  And  yet  this 
is  the  same  Apostle  who  reproved  the  litigiousness  of  his  Corin- 
thian converts  with  so  much  severity.  "  Now,  therefore,  there 
is  utterly  a  fault  among  you,  because  ye  go  to  law  one  with 
another.  Why  do  ye  not  rather  take  wrong  ?  why  do  ye  not 
rather  suffer  yourselves  to  be  defrauded  ?'' 

On  the  one  hand,  therefore,  Christianity  excludes  all  vindictive 
motives,  and  all  frivolous  causes  of  prosecution ;  so  that  where 
the  injury  is  small,  where  no  good  purpose  of  public  example  is 
answered,  where  forbearance  is  not  likely  to  invite  a  repetition  of 
the  injury,  or  where  the  expense  of  an  action  becomes  a  punish- 
ment too  severe  for  the  offence  ;  there  the  Christian  is  with- 
Iiolden  by  the  authority  of  his  religion  from  going  to  law. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  law-suit  is  inconsistent  with  no  rule  of 
the  Gospel,  when  it  is  instituted, 

1.  For  the  establishing  of  some  important  right. 

2.  For  the  procuring  a  compensation  for  some  considerable 
damage. 

3.  For  the  preventing  of  future  injury. 
But,  since  it  is  supposed  to  be  undertaken  simply  with  a  view 

io  the  ends  of  justice  and  safety,  the  prosecutor  of  the  action  is 
bound  to  confine  himself  to  the  cheapest  process  which  will  ac- 
complish these  ends,  as  well  as  to  eonsent  to  auy  peaceable  expe- 
dient for  the  same  purpose ;  as  to  a  reference,  in  which  the  arbi- 
trators can  do,  what  th»*  law  cannot,  divide  the  damage,  when 
the  fault  is  mutual ;  or  to  a  compounding  of  the  dispute,  by  accept- 
ing a  compensation  in  the  gross,  without  entering  into  articles  and 
items,  which  it  is  often  very  difficult  to  adjust  separately. 

As  to  the  rest,  the  duty  of  the  contending  parties  may  be 
expressed  in  the  following  directions  : 

Not  by  appeals  to  prolong  a  suit  against  your  own  convic- 
tion. 

Not  to  undertake  or  defend  a  suit  against  a  poor  adversary,  or 


LITIGATION.  |6l 

render  ft  more  dilatory  or  expensive  than  necessary,  with  a  hope 
of  intimidating  or  wearying  him  out  by  the  expense. 

Not  to  influence  evidence  by  authority  or  expectation. 

Not  to  stifle  any  in  your  possession,  although  it  make  against 
you. 

Hitherto  we  have  treated  of  civil  actions.  In  criminal  prose- 
cutions, the  private  injury  should  be  forgotton,  and  the  prosecutor 
proceed  with  the  same  temper,  and  upon  the  same  motives,  as 
the  magistrate;  the  one  being  a  necessary  minister  of  justice  as 
well  as  the  other,  and  both  buund  to  direct  their  conduct  by  a 
dispassionate  care  of  the  public  welfare. 

In  whatever  degree  the  punishment  of  an  offender  is  conduc- 
tive, or  his  escape  dangerous,  to  the  interest  of  the  community, 
in  the  same  degree  is  the  party  against  whom  the  crime  was 
committed  bound  to  prosecute,  because  such  prosecutions  must 
in  their  nature  originate  from  the  sufferer. 

Therefore  great  jiublic  crimes,  as  robberies,  forgeries,  and  the 
like,  ought  not  to  be  spared,  from  an  apprehension  of  trouble  or 
expense  in  carrying  on  the  prosecution,  from  false  shame,  or  mis- 
placed compassion. 

There  are  many  offences,  such  as  nuisances,  neglect  of  public 
roads,  forestalling,  engrossing,  smuggling,  sabbath  breaking,  pro- 
faneness,  drunkenness,  prostitution,  the  keeping  of  lewd  or  dis- 
orderly houses,  the  writing,  publishing,  or  exposing  to  sale  las- 
civious books  or  pictures,  with  some  others,  the  prosecution  of 
which,"  being  of  equal  concern  to  the  whole  neighbourhood,  cannot 
be  charged  as  a  peculiar  obligation  upon  any. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  great  merit  in  the  person  who  undertakes 
such  prosecutions  upon  proper  motives;  which  amounts  to  the 
same  thing. 

The  character  of  an  informer  is  in  this  country  undeservedly 
odious.  But  where  any  public  advantage  is  likely  to  be  attained 
by  informations,  or  other  activity  in  promoting  the  execution  of 
the  laws,  a  good  man  will  despise  a  prejudice  founded  in  no  just 
reason,  or  will  acquit  himself  of  the  imputation  of  interested 
designs  by  giving  away  his  share  of  the  penalty. 

On  the  other  hand,  prosecutions  for  the  sake  of  the  reward  or 
for  the  gratification  of  private  enmity,  where  the  offence  pro- 
duces no  public  mischief,  or  where  it  arises  from  ignorance  or 
inadvertency,  are  prohibited  under  the  general  description  of 
21 


te 


l$%  GRATITUDE* 


applying  a  rule  of  law  to  a  purpose  for  which  it  was  not  intended. 
Under  which  description  may  be  rauked  an  officious  revival  of 
the  laws  against  Popish  priests,  and  dissenting  teachers. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

GRATITUDE. 

EXAMPLES  of  ingratitude  eheck  and  discourage  voluntary/ 
beneficence  :  and  in  this  the  mischief  of  ingratitude  consist*/ 
Nor  is  the  mischief  small ;  for  after  all  is  done  that  can  be  done, 
towards  providing  for  the  public  happiness,  by  prescribing  rules 
of  justice,  and  enforcing  the  observation  of  them  by  penalties  or 
compulsion,  much  must  be  left  to  those  offices  of  kindness,  which 
men  remain  at  liberty  to  exert  or  withhold.  Now  not  only  the 
choice  of  the  objects,  but  the  quantity  and  even  the  existence  of 
this  sort  of  kindness  in  the  world  depends,  in  a  great  measure, 
upon  the  return  which  it  receives ;  and  this  is  a  consideration  of 
general  importance.  'iru/tidZttPfXCUUi 

A  seeond  reason  for  cul-:vating  a  grateful  temper  in  ourselves, 
is  the  following:  The  same  principle,  which  is  touched  with  the 
kindness  of  a  human  benefactor,  is  capable  of  being  affected  by 
the  divine  goodness,  and  of  becoming,  under  the  influence  of  that 
affection,  a  source  of  the  purest  and  most  exalted  virtue.  The 
love  of  God  is  the  sublimest  gratitude.  It  is  a  mistake,  therefore, 
to  imagine,  that  this  virtue  is  omitted  in  the  Christian  scriptures; 
for  every  precept  which  commands  us  "  to  love  God,  because  he 
first  loved  us,"  presupposes  the  principle  of  gratitude,  and  directs 
it  to  its  proper  object. 

It  is  impossible  to  particularize  the  several  expressions  of 
gratitude,  in  as  much  as  they  vary  with  the  character  and  situa- 
tion of  the  benefactor,  and  with  the  opportunities  of  the  person 
obliged;  which  variety  admits  of  no  bounds. 

It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  gratitude  can  never  oblige  a 
man  to  do  what  is  wrong,  and  what  by  consequence  he  is  previ- 
ously obliged  not  to  do.    It  is  no  ingratitude  to  refuse  to  do, 


SLANDER.  iQg 

what  we  cannot  reconcile  to  any  apprehensions  of  our  duty ;  but 
it  is  ingratitude  and  hypocrisy  together,  to  pretend  this  reason, 
when  it  is  not  the  real  one :  and  the  frequency  of  such  pretences 
has  brought  this  apology  for  non-compliance  with  the  will  of  a 
benefactor  into  unmerited  disgrace. 

It  has  long  been  accounted  a  violation  of  delicacy  and  gener- 
osity to  upbraid  men,  with  the  favours  they  have  received  ;  but  it 
argues  a  total  destitution  of  both  these  qualities,  as  well  as  of 
moral  prohity,  to  take  advantage  of  that  ascendency,  which  the 
conferring  of  benefits  justly  creates,  to  draw  or  drive  those  whom 
we  have  obliged  into  mean  or  dishonest  compliances 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SLANDER. 

SPEAKING  is  acting,  both  in  philosophical  strictness,  and 
as  to  all  moral  purposes  ;  for,  if  the  mischief  and  motive  of 
our  conduct  be  the  same,  the  means  which  we  use  make  no  dif- 
ference. 

And  this  is  in  effect  what  our  Saviour  declares,  Matt.  xii.  37: 
"By  thy  words  thou  shalt  be  justified,  and  by  thy  words  thou 
shalt  be  condemned :"  by  thy  words,  as  well,  that  is,  as  by  thy 
actions;  the  one  shall  be  taken  into  the  account  as  well  as  the 
other,  for  they  both  possess  the  same  property  of  voluntarily  pro- 
ducing good  or  evil. 

Slander  may  be  distinguished  into  two  kinds  malicious  slander, 
and  inconsiderate  slander. 

Malicious  slander,  is  the  relating  of  either  truth  or  falsehood, 
for  the  purpose  of  creating  misery. 

I  acknowledge  that  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  what  is  related 
varies  the  degree  of  guilt  considerably  ;  and  that  slander,  in  the 
ordinary  acceptation  of  the  term,  signifies  the  circulation  of  mis- 
chievous falsehoods :  but  truth  may  be  made  instrumental  to  the 
success  of  malicious  designs  as  well  as  falsehood  ;  and  if  the  end 
be  bad,  the  means  cannot  be  innocent. 


iQq,  SLANDER. 

I  think  the  idea  of  slander  ought  to  be  eoufined  to  the  produc- 
tion of  gratuitous  mischief.  When  we  have  an  end  or  interest  of 
our  own  to  serve,  if  we  attempt  to  compass  it  by  falsehood,  it  is 
fraud  ;  if  by  a  publication  of  the  truth,  it  is  not  without  some 
additional  circumstance  of  breach  of  promise,  betraying  of  confi- 
dence, or  the  like,  to  be  deemed  criminal. 

Sometimes  the  pain  is  intended  for  the  person  to  whom  we  are 
speaking;  at  other  times  an  enmity  is  to  be  gratified  by  the  pre- 
judice or  disquiet  of  a  third  person.  To  infuse  suspicions,  to 
kindle  or  continue  disputes,  to  avert  the  favour  and  esteem  of 
benefactors  from  their  dependents,  to  render  some  one  whom  we 
dislike  contemptible  or  obnoxious  in  the  public  opinion,  are  all 
offices  of  slander;  of  which  the  guilt  must  be  measured  by  the 
intensity  and  extent  of  the  misery  produced. 

The  disguises  under  which  slander  is  conveyed,  whether  in  a 
whisper,  with  injunctions  of  secrecy,  by  way  of  caution,  or  with 
affected  reluctance,  are  all  so  many  aggravations  of  the  offence, 
as  they  indicate  more  deliberation  and  design. 

Inconsiderate  slander  is  a  different  offence,  although  the  same 
mischief  actually  follow,  and  although  the  mischief  might 
have  been  foreseen.  The  not  being  conscious  of  that  design, 
which  we  have  hitherto  attributed  to  the  slanderer,  makes  the 
difference. 

The  guilt  here  consists  in  the  want  of  that  regard  to  the  con- 
sequences of  our  conduct,  which  a  just  affection  for  human  hap- 
piness, and  concern  for  our  duty,  would  not  have  failed  to  have 
produced  in  us.     And  it  is  no  answer  to  this  crimination  to  say, 
that  we  entertained  no  evil  design.     A  servant  may  be  a  very  bad 
servant,  and  yet  seldom  or  never  design  to  act  in  opposition  to 
his  master's  interest  or  will :  and  his  master  may  justly  punish 
such  servant  for  a  thoughtlessness  and  neglect  nearly  as  prejudi- 
cial as  deliberate  disobedience.     I  accuse  you  not,  he  may  say,  of 
any  express  intention  to  hurt  me  ;  but  had  not  the  fear  of  my  dis- 
pleasure, the  care  of  my  interest,  and  indeed  all  the  qualities 
which   constitute  the  merit  of  a  good  servant,  been   wanting  in 
you,  they  would  not  only  liave  excluded  every  direct  purpose  of 
giving   me  uneasiness,   but  have   been   so  far  present  to  your 
thoughts  as  to  have  checked  that  unguarded  licentiousness,  by 
which  I  have  suffered  so  much,  and  inspired  you  in  its  place  with 
an  habitual  solicitude  about  the  effects  and  tendency  of  what  you 


SLANDER.  £55 

did  or  said.  This  very  much  resembles  the  case  of  all  sins  of 
incousitieration  ;  and  amongst  the  foremost  of  these,  that  of  in- 
considerate slander. 

Information  communicated  for  the  real  purpose  of  warning,  or 
caulioniiig,  is  not  slander. 

Indiscriminate  praise  is  the  opposite  of  slander,  hut  it  is  the 
opposite  extreme;  and  however  it  may  affect  to  be  thought  ex- 
cess of  candour,  is  commonly  the  effusion  of  a  frivolous  un- 
derstanding, or  proceeds  from  a  settled  contempt  of  all  moral 
distinctions. 


l« 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


BOOK  III, 


PART  III. 


OP  RELATIVE  DUTIES  WHICH  RESULT  FROM  THE  CONSTITU- 
TION OF  THE  SEXES. 

THE  constitution  of  the  sexes,  is  the  foundation  of  marriage. 

Collateral  to  the  subject  of  marriage,  are  fornication,  seduction, 
adultery,  incest,  polygamy,  divorce. 

Consequential  to  marriage,  is  the  relation  and  reciprocal  duty 
of  parent  and  child. 

We  will  treat  of  these  subjects  in  the  following  order :  first, 
of  the  public  use  of  marriage  institutions ;  secondly,  of  the  sub- 
jects collateral  to  marriage,  in  the  order  in  which  we  have  here 
proposed  them;  thirdly,  of  marriage  itself;  and  lastly,  of  the 
relation  and  reciprocal  duties  of  parents  and  children. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OF  THE  PUBLIC  USE  OF  MARRIAGE  INSTITUTIONS. 

THE  public  use  of  marriage  institutions  consists  in  their  pro- 
moting the  following  beneficial  effects  : 

1.  The  private  comfort  of  individuals,  especially  of  the  female 
sex.    It  may  be  true,  that  all  are  not  interested  in  this  reason ; 


FORNICATION.  \&f 

nevertheless,  it  is  a  reason  to  all  for  abstaining  from  any  conduct 
whieh  teuds  in  its  general  consequence  to  obstruct  marriage;  for 
whatever  promotes  the  happiness  of  the  majority  is  binding  upon 
the  whole. 

2.  The  production  of  the  greatest  number  of  healthy  children, 
their  better  education,  and  the  making  of  due  provision  for  their 
settlement  in  life. 

3.  The  peace  of  human  society,  in  cutting  off  a  principal 
source  of  contention,  by  assigning  one  or  more  women  to  one  man, 
and  protecting  his  exclusive  right  by  sanctions  of  morality  and 
law. 

4.  The  better  government  of  society,  by  distributing  the  com- 
munity into  separate  families,  and  appointing  over  each  the  au- 
thority of  a  master  of  a  family,  which  has  more  actual  influence 
than  all  civil  authority  put  together. 

5.  The  same  end,  in  the  additional  security  which  the  state  re- 
ceives for  the  good  behaviour  of  its  citizens,  from  the  solicitude 
they  feel  for  the  welfare  of  their  children,  and  from  their  being 
confined  to  permanent  habitations. 

6.  The  encouragement  of  industry. 

Some  ancient  nations  appear  to  have  been  more  sensible  of  the 
importance  of  marriage  institutions  than  we  are.  The  Spartans 
obliged  their  citizens  to  marry  by  penalties,  and  the  Romans  en- 
couraged theirs  by  the  jus  trium  liberorum.  A  man  who  had  no 
child,  was  entitled  by  the  Roman  law  only  to  one  half  of  any 
ltigacy  that  should  be  left  him,  that  is,  at  the  most,  could  only 
receive  one  half  of  the  testator's  fortune. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FORNICATION. 


THE  first  and  great  mischief,  and  by  consequence  the  guilt,  of 
promiscuous  concubinage,  consists  in  its  tendency  to  diminish 
marriages,  and  thereby  to  defeat  the  several  beneficial  purposes 
enumerated  in  the  preeeding  chapter. 


£68  FORNICATION. 

Promiscuous  concubinage  discourages  marriage  by  abating  th* 
cbief  temptation  to  it.  The  male  part  of  the  species  will  not 
undertake  the  incumbrance,  expense  and  restraint  of  married  life, 
if  they  can  gratify  their  passions  at  a  cheaper  price ;  and  they 
will  undertake  any  thing,  rather  than  not  gratify  them. 

The  reader  will  learn  to  comprehend  the  magnitude  of  this 
mischief  by  attending  to  the  importance  and  variety  of  the  uses, 
to  which  marriage  is  subservient ;  and  by  recollecting  withal, 
that  the  malignity  and  moral  quality  of  each  crime  is  not  to  be 
estimated  by  the  particular  effect  of  one  offence,  or  of  one  per- 
son's offending,  but  by  the  general  tendency  and  consequence  of 
crimes  of  the  same  nature.  The  libertine  may  not  be  conscious 
that  these  irregularities  hinder  his  own  marriage,  from  which 
he  is  deterred,  he  may  allege,  by  different  considerations ;  niHch 
less  does  he  perceive  how  his  indulgencies  can  hinder  other  men 
from  marrying :  but  what  will  he  say  would  be  the  consequence, 
if  the  same  licentiousness  were  universal  ?  or  what  should  hin- 
der its  becoming  universal,  if  it  be  innocent  or  allowable  in  him? 

2.  Fornication  supposes  prostitution:  and  prostitution  brings 
and  leaves  the  victims  of  it  to  almost  certain  misery.  It  is  no. 
small  quantity  of  misery  in  the  aggregate,  which,  between  want, 
disease,  and  insult,  is  suffered  by  those  outcasts  of  human  society, 
who  infest  populous  cities;  the  whole  of  which  is  a,  general  con.' 
sequence  of  fornication,  and  to  the  increase  and  continuance  of 
which,  every  act  and  instance  of  fornication  contributes. 

3.  Fornication  produces  habits  of  ungovernable  lewdness, 
which  introduce  the  more  aggravated  crimes  of  seduction,  adul- 
tery, violation,  &c*  Likewise,  however,  it  be  accounted  for, 
the  criminal  commerce  of  the  sexes  corrupts  and  depraves  the 
mind  and  moral  character  more  than  any  single  species  of  vice 
whatsoever.  That  ready  perception  of  guilt,  that  prompt  and 
decisive  resolution  against  it,  which  constitutes  a  virtuous  char- 
acter, is  seldom  found  in  persons  addicted  to  these  indulgencies. 
They  prepare  an  easy  admission  for  every  sin  that  seeks  it ;  are, 
in  low  life,  usually  the  first  stage  in  men's  progress  to  the  most 
desperate  villainies  ;  and,  in  high  life,  to  that  lamented  dissolute- 

*  Of  this  passion  it  has  been  truly  said,  "that  irregularity  has  no  limits  ; 
that  one  excess  draws  on  another ;  that  the  most  easy,  therefore,  as  well  as 
the  most  excellent  way  of  being  virtuous,  is  to  be  so  entirely."  Ogden, 
Sena.  xvi» 


FORNICATION.  £69 

uess  of  principle,  which  manifests  itself  in  a  profligacy  of  public 
conduct,  and  a  contempt  of  the  obligations  of  religion  and  of 
moral  probity.  Add  to  this,  that  habits  of  libertinism  incapaci- 
tate and  indispose  the  mind  for  all  intellectual,  moral,  and  reli- 
gious pleasures  ;  which  is  a  great  loss  to  any  man's  happiness.   , 

4.  Fornication  perpetuates  a  disease,  which  may  be  accounted 
one  of  the  sorest  maladies  of  human  nature;  and  the  effects  of 
which  are  said  to  visit  the  constitution  of  even  distant  genera- 
tions. 

The  passion  being  natural,  proves  that  it  was  intended  to  he 
gratified ;  but  under  what  restrictions,  or  whether  without  any, 
must  be  collected  from  different  considerations. 

The  Christian  seriptures  condemn  fornication  absolutely  and 
peremptorily.  "  Out  of  the  heart,"  says  our  Saviour,  "  proceed 
evil  thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  fornication,  thefts,  false  wit- 
ness, blasphemies  ;  these  are  the  things  which  defile  a  man." 
These  are  Christ's  own  words  ;  and  one  word  from  him  upon  the 
subject  is  final.  It  may  be  observed  with  what  society  fornica- 
tion is  classed ;  with  murders,  thefts,  false  witness,  blasphemies. 
I  do  not  mean  that  these  crimes  are  all  equal,  because  they  are 
all  mentioned  together  ;  but  it  proves  that  they  are  all  crimes. 
The  Apostles  are  more  full  upon  this  topic.  One  well  known 
passage  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  may  stand  in  the  place  of 
all  others ;  because,  admitting  the  authority  by  which  the  Apos- 
tles of  Christ  spake  and  wrote,  it  is  decisive :  "  Marriage  and  the 
bed  undefiled  is  honourable  amongst  all  men  j  but  whore-mongers 
and  adulterers  God  will  judge  ;"  which  was  a  great  deal  to  say, 
at  a  time  when  it  was  not  agreed,  even  amongst  philosophers 
themselves,  that  fornication  was  a  crime. 

The  scriptures  give  no  sanction  to  those  austerities,  which  have 
been  since  imposed  upon  the  world  under  the  name  of  Christ's 
religion,  as  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  the  praise  of  perpetual 
virginity,  the  prohibitio  concubitus  cum  gravida  uxore  ;  but  with 
a  just  knowledge  of,  and  regard  to  the  condition  and  interest 
of  the  human  species,  have  provided,  in  the  marriage  of  one 
man  with  one  woman,  an  adequate  gratification  for  the  propen- 
sities of  their  nature,  and  have  restricted  them  to  that  gratifi- 
cation. 

The  avowed  toleration,  and  in  some  countries  the  licensing, 
taxing,  and  regulating  of  public  brothels,  has  appeared  to  the 
32 


170 


FORNICATION 


people,  an  authorizing  of  fornication  ;  and  has  contributed  with 
other  causes,  so  far  to  vitiate  the  public  opinion,  that  there  is  no 
practice  of  which  the  immorality  is  so  little  thought  of,  or  acknowl- 
edged, although  there  are  few,  in  which  it  can  more  plainly  he 
made  gilt.  The  legislatures  who  have  patronized  receptacles  of 
prostitution  ought  to  have  foreseen  this  effect,  as  well  as  consider- 
ed, that  whatever  facilitates  fornication  diminishes  marriages. 
And  as  to  the  usual  apology,  for  this  relaxed  discipline,  the  dan- 
ger of  greater  enormities  if  access  to  prostitutes  were  too  strictly 
watched  and  prohibited,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  look  to  that, 
when  the  laws  and  the  magistrates  have  done  their  utmost.  The 
greatest  vigilance  of  both  will  do  ho  more,  than  oppose  some 
bounds  and  some  difficulties  to  this  intercourse.  And,  after  all, 
these  preteuded  fears  are  without  foundation  in  experience.  The 
men  are  in  all  respects  the  most  virtuous,  in  countries  where  the 
wom^n  are  most  chaste. 

There  is  a  species  of  cohabitation,  distinguishable,  no  doubt 
from  vagrant  concubinage,  and  which  by  reason  of  its  resem- 
blance to  marriage,  may  be  thought  to  participate  of  the  sanctity 
and  innocence  of  that  estate ;  I  mean  the  case  of  kept  mistresses, 
under  the  favourable  circumstance  of  mutual  fidelity.  I  his  case 
I  have  heard  defended  by  some  such  apology  as  the  following : 

"  That  the  marriage  rite  being  different  in  different  countries, 
and  in  the  same  country  amongst  different  sects,  and  with  some 
scarce  any  thing;  and,  moreover,  not  being  prescribed  or  even 
mentioned  in  scripture,  can  be  accounted  of  only,  as  of  a  form  and 
ceremony  of  human  invention  :  that,  consequently,  if  a  man  and 
woman  betroth  and  confine  themselves  to  each  other,  their  inter- 
course must  be  the  same,  as  to  all  moral  purposes,  as  if  they  were 
legally  married  :  for  the  addition  or  omission  of  that  which  is  a 
mere  form  and  ceremony,  can  make  uo  difference  in  the  sight  of 
God,  or  in  the  actual  nature  of  right  and  wrong." 

To  all  which  it  may  be  replied, 

1.  If  the  situation  of  the  parties  be  the  same  thing  as  marriage, 
why  do  they  not  marry  ? 

2.  If  the  man  choose  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  dismiss  the 
woman  at  his  pleasure,  or  to  retain  her  in  a  state  of  humiliation 
and  dependence  inconsistent  with  the  rights  which  marriage 
would  confer  upon  her,  it  is  not  the  same  thing. 

It  is  not  at  any  rate  the  same  thing  to  the  children. 


FORNICATION.  171 

Again,  a3  to  the  marriage  rite  being  a  mere  form,  and  that  also 
variable,  the  same  may  be  said  of  signing  and  sealing  of  bonds, 
wills,  deeds  of  conveyance,  and  the  like,  which  yet  make  a  great 
difference  in  the  rights  and  obligations  of  the  parties  concerned 
in  tliem. 

And  with  respect  to  the  rite  not  being  appointed  in  scripture; 
the  scriptures  forbid  fornication,  that  is,  cohabitation  without  mar- 
riage, leaving  it  to  the  law  of  each  country  to  pronounce  what  is, 
or  what  makes,  a  marriage;  in  like  manner  as  they  forbid  thefts, 
that  is,  the  taking  away  of  another's  property,  leaving  it  to  the 
municipal  law  to  fix  what  makes  the  thing  property,  or  whose  it 
is ;  which  also,  as  well  j:s  marriage,  depend  upon  arbitrary  and 
mutable  forms. 

Laying  aside  the  injunctions  of  scripture,  the  plain  account  of 
the  question  seems  to  be  this  :  It  is  immoral,  because  it  is  per- 
nicious that  men  and  women  should  cohabit,  without  undertaking 
eertain  irrevocable  obligations,  and  mutually  conferring  certain 
civil  rights;  if,  therefore,  the  law  has  annexed  these  rights  and 
obligations  to  certain  forms,  so  that  they  cannot  be  secured  or 
undertaken  by  any  other  means,  which  is  the  ease  here  (for 
whatever  the  parties  may  promise  to  each  other,  nothing  but  the 
marriage  ceremony  can  make  their  promise  irrevocable.)  it  be- 
comes in  the  same  degree  immoral,  that  men  and  women  should 
eohabit  without  the  interposition  of  these  forms. 


If  fornication  be  criminal,  all  those  incentives  which  lead  to 
it  are  accessaries  to  the  crime,  as  lascivious  conversation,  whether 
expressed  in  obscene  or  disguised  under  modest  phrases ;  also 
wanton  songs,  pictures,  books  ;  the  writing,  publishing,  and  cir- 
culating of  which,  whether  out  of  frolic,  or  for  some  pitiful  profit, 
is  productive  of  so  extensive  a  mischief  from  so  mean  a  tempta- 
tion, that  few  crimes,  within  the  reach  of  private  wickedness, 
have  more  to  answer  for,  or  less  to  plead  in  their  excuse. 

Indecent  conversation,  and  by  parity  of  reason  all  the  rest,  are 
forbidden  by  St.  Paul,  Eph.  iv.  29  :  "  Let  no  corrupt  communica- 
tion proceed  out  of  your  mouth;"  and  again,  Col.  iii.  8  :  "Put 
off — filthy  communication  out  of  your  mouth.*' 


iste 


SEDUCTION. 


The  invitation,  or  voluntary  admission,  of  impure  thoughts  or 
the  suffering  them  to  get  possession  of  the  imagination,  falls 
within  the  same  description,  and  is  condemned  by  Christ,  Matt. 
v.  28 :  "  Whosoever  looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her,  hath 
committed  adultery  with  her  already  in  his  heart."  Christ,  by 
thus  enjoining  a  regulation  of  the  thoughts,  strikes  at  the  root  of 
the  evil. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SEDUCTION. 

THE  seducer  practices  the  same  stratagems  to  draw  a  woman's 
person  into  his  power,  that  a  swindler  does,  to  get  possession  of 
your  goods,  or  money  ;  yet  the  law  of  honour,  which  abhors  de- 
ceit, applauds  the  address  of  a  successful  intrigue:  so  much  is 
this  capricious  rule  guided  by  names,  and  with  such  facility 
does  it  accommodate  itself  to  the  pleasures  and  conveniency  of 
higher  life  ! 

Seduction  is  seldom  accomplished  without  fraud ;  and  the  fraud 
is  by  so  much  more  criminal  than  other  frauds,  as  the  injury 
affected  by  it  is  greater,  continues  longer,  and  less  admits  of 
reparation. 

This  injury  is  threefold  j  to  the  woman,  to  her  family,  and  to 
the  public. 

1.  The  injury  to  the  woman  is  made  up,  of  the  pain  she  suffers 
from  shame,  of  the  loss  she  sustains  in  her  reputation  and  pros- 
pects of  marriage,  and  of  the  depravation  of  her  moral  prin- 
ciple. 

This  pain  must  be  extreme,  if  we  may  judge  of  it  from  those 
barbarous  endeavours  to  conceal  their  disgrace,  to  which  women, 
under  such  circumstances,  sometimes  have  recourse ;  comparing 
also  this  barbarity  with  their  passionate  fondness  for  their  off- 
spring in  other  cases.  Nothing  but  an  agony  of  mind  the  most 
insupportable  can  induce  a  woman  to  forget  her  nature,  and  tbe 
pity  which  even  a  stranger  would  show  to  a  helpless  and  implor- 
ing infant.    It  is  true,  that  all  are  not  urged  to  this  extremity ; 


SEDUCTION,  I73 

but  if  auy  arc,  it  affords  an  indication  of  how  much  all  suffer 
from  the  same  cause.  What  shall  we  say  to  the  authors  of  such 
mischief? 

2.  The  loss  which  a  woman  sustains  by  the  ruin  of  her  repu- 
tation almost  exceeds  computation.  Every  person's  happiness 
depends  in  part  upon  the  respect  and  reception  which  they  meet 
with  in  the  world  ;  and  it  is  no  inconsiderable  mortification,  even 
to  the  firmest  tempers,  to  be  rejected  from  tbe  society  of  their 
equals,  or  received  there  with  neglect  and  disdain.  But  this  is 
not  all,  nor  the  worst.  By  a  rule  of  life,  which  it  is  not  easy  to 
blame,  and  which  it  is  impossible  to  alter,  a  woman  loses  with 
her  chastity  the  chance  of  marrying  at  all,  or  in  any  manner 
equal  to  the  hopes  she  had  been  accustomed  to  entertain.  Now 
marriage,  whatever  it  be  to  a  man,  is  that,  from  which  every 
woman  expects  her  chief  happiness.  And  this  is  still  more  true 
in  low  life,  of  which  condition  the  women  are,  who  are  most 
exposed  to  solicitations  of  this  sort.  Add  to  this,  that  where  a 
woman's  maintenance  depends  upon  her  character  (as  it  does,  in 
a  great  measure,  with  those  who  are  to  support  themselves  by 
service,)  little  sometimes  is  left  to  the  forsaken  sufferer,  but  to 
starve  for  want  of  employment,  or  to  have  recourse  to  prostitution 
for  food  and  raiment. 

3.  As  a  woman  collects  her  virtue  into  this  point,  the  loss  of  her 
chastity  is  generally  the  destruction  of  her  moral  principle;  and 
this  consequence  is  to  be  apprehended,  whether  the  criminal  in- 
tercourse be  discovered  or  not. 

II.  The  injury  to  the  family  may  be  understood,  by  the  appli- 
cation of  that  infallible  rule,  "  of  doing  to  others  what  we  would 
that  others  should  do  unto  us."  Let  a  father  or  a  brother  say, 
for  what  consideration  they  would  suffer  this  injury  to  a  daughter 
or  a  sister  j  and  whether  any,  or  even  a  total  loss  of  fortune 
could  create  equal  affliction  and  distress.  And  when  they  reflect 
upon  this,  let  them  distinguish,  if  they  can,  between  a  robbery, 
committed  upon  their  property  by  fraud  or  forgery,  and  the  ruin 
of  their  happiness  by  the  treachery  of  a  seducer. 

III.  The  public  at  large  lose  the  benefit  of  the  woman's  service 
in  her  proper  place  and  destination,  as  a  wife  and  parent.  This 
to  the  whole  community  may  be  little:  hut  it  is  often  more  than 
all  the  good  which  the  seducer  does  to  the  community  cau  recom- 
pense.    Moreover,  prostitution  is  supplied  by  seduction;  and  in 


174 


ADULTERY. 


proportion  to  the  danger  there  is  of  the  woman's  betaking  her- 
self, after  her  first  sacrifice,  to  a  life  of  public  lewdness,  the 
seducer  is  answerable  for  the  multiplied  evils  to  which  his  crime 
gives  birth. 

Upon  the  whole,  if  we  pursue  the  effects  of  seduction  through 
the  complicated  misery  which  it  occasions;  and  if  it  be  right  to 
estimate  crimes  by  the  mischief  they  knowingly  produce,  il  will 
appear  something  more  than  mere  invective  to  assert,  that  not 
one  half  of  the  crimes,  for  which  men  suffer  death  by  the  laws  of 
England,  are  so  flagitious  as  this.* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ADULTERY. 

A  NEW  sufferer  is  introduced,  the  injured  husband,  who  re- 
ceives a  wound  in  his  sensibility  and  affections,  the  most  painful 
and  incurable  that  human  nature  knows.  In  all  other  respects, 
adultery  on  the  part  of  the  man  who  solicits  the  chastity  of  a 
married  woman,  includes  the  crime  of  seduction,  and  is  attended 
with  the  same  mischief. 

The  infidelity  of  the  woman  is  aggravated  by  cruelty  to  her 
children,  who  are  generally  involved  in  their  parent's  shame,  and 
always  made  unhappy  by  their  quarrel. 

If  it  be  said  that  these  consequences  are  chargeable  not  so 
much  upon  the  crime,  as  the  discovery,  we  answer,  first,  that  the 
crime  could  not  be  discovered  unless  it  were  committed,  and  that 
the  commission  is  never  secure  from  discovery ;  and  secondly, 
that  if  we  excuse  adulterous  connexions,  whenever  they  can  hope 
to  escape  detection,  which  is  the  conclusion  to  which  this  argu- 
ment conducts  us,  we  leave  the  husband  no  other  security  for  his 

•  Yet  the  law  has  provided  no  punishment  for  this  offence  beyond  a  pecu- 
niary satisfaction  to  the  injured  family  ;  and  this  can  only  be  e>me  at,  by  is  e 
of  the  quaintest  fictions  in  the  world,  by  the  father's  bringing  his  action  against 
the  seducer,  for  the  loss  of  his  daughter's  service,  during  ber  pregnancy  and 
nurturing. 


ADULTERY. 


175 


wife's  chastity,  than  in  her  want  of  opportunity  or  temptation; 
which  would  probably  either  deter  men  from  marrying,  or  render 
marriage  a  state  of  such  jealousy  aud  alarm  to  the  husband,  as 
must  end  in  I  he  slavery  and  confinement  of  the  wife. 

The  vow,  by  which  married  persous  mutually  engage  their 
fidelity,  is  "  witnessed  before  God,"  and  accompanied  with  cir- 
cumstances of  solemnity  and  religion,  which  approach  to  the 
nature  of  an  oath.  The  married  offender  therefore  incurs  a  crime 
little  short  of  perjury,  and  the  seduction  of  a  married  woman  is 
little  less  than  subornation  of  perjury; — and  this  guilt  is  inde- 
pendent of  the  discovery. 

All  behaviour  which  is  designed,  or  which  knowingly  tends,  to 
captivate  the  affection  of  a  married  woman,  is  a  barbarous  intru- 
sion upon  the  peace  and  virtue  of  a  family,  though  it  fall  short 
of  adultery. 

The  usual  and  only  apology  for  adultery  is  the  prior  trans- 
gression of  the  other  party.  There  are  degrees  no  doubt  in  this, 
as  in  other  crimes :  and  so  far  as  the  bad  effects  of  adultery  are 
anticipated  by  the  conduct  of  the  husband  or  wife  who  offends 
first,  the  guilt  of  the  second  offender  is  less.  But  this  falls  very 
far  short  of  a  justification  ;  unless  it  could  be  shown  that  the  obli- 
gation of  the  marriage  vow  depends  upon  the  condition  of  reci- 
procal fidelity ;  for  which  construction  there  appears  no  founda- 
tion, either  in  expediency,  or  in  the  terms  of  the  promise,  or  in 
the  design  of  the  legislature  which  prescribed  the  marriage  rite. 
Moreover,  the  rule  contended  for  by  this  plea  has  a  manifest  ten- 
dency to  multiply  the  offence,  but  none  to  reclaim  the  offender. 

The  way  of  considering  the  offence  of  one  party  as  a  jirovoca- 
Hon  to  the  other,  and  the  other  as  ouly  retaliating  the  injury  by 
repeating  the  crime,  is  a  childish  trifling  with  words. 

"  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery,"'  was  an  interdict  delivered 
by  God  himself.  By  the  Jewish  law  adultery  was  capital  to  both 
parties  in  the  crime:  "Even  he  that  committeth  adultery  with 
his  neighbour's  wife,  the  adulterer  and  adulteress  shall  surely  be 
put  to  death." — Lev.xx.  10.  Which  passages  prove,  that  the  divine 
Legislator  placed  a  great  difference  between  adultery  and  forni- 
cation. And  with  this  agree  the  Christian  scriptures  ;  for  in 
almost  all  the  catalogues  they  have  left  us  of  crimes  and  crimi- 
nals, they  enumerate  "  fornication,  adultery,  whore-mongers, 
adulterers,"  (Matt.  xr.  19.    1  Cor.  vi.  9.     Gal.  v.  9.    Heb.  xiii. 


m 


ADULTERY. 


4>.)  by  which  mention  of  both,  they  show  that  they  did  not  con- 
sider them  as  the  same ;  but  that  the  crime  of  adultery  was,  in 
their  apprehension,  distinct  from,  and  accumulated  upon,  that  of 
fornication. 

The  history  of  the  woman  taken  in  adultery,  recorded  in  the 
eighth  chapter  of  St  John's  Gospel,  hath  been  thought  by  some  to 
give  couutenance  to  that  crime.  As  Christ  told  the  woman, 
"  Neither  do  I  condevm  thee,"  we  must  believe,  it  is  said,  that  he 
deemed  her  conduct  either  not  criminal,  or  not  a  crime,  however, 
of  the  heinous  nature  which  we  represent  it  to  be.  A  more 
attentive  examination  of  the  case  will,  I  think,  convince  us,  that 
from  it  nothing  can  be  concluded  as  to  Christ's  opinion  concerning 
adultery,  either  one  way  or  the  other.  The  transaction  is  thus 
related  :  "  Early  in  the  morning  Jesus  came  again  into  the  tem- 
ple, and  all  the  people  came  unto  him  ;  and  he  sat  down  and 
taught  them  ;  and  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  brought  unto  him  a 
woman  taken  in  adultery  ;  and  when  they  had  set  her  in  the  midst, 
they  say  unto  him,  Master,  this  woman  was  taken  in  adultery,  in 
the  very  act :  now  Moses,  in  the  law,  commanded  that  such  should 
be  stoned;  but  what  sayest  thou  ?  This  they  said  tempting  him, 
that  they  might  have  to  accuse  him.  But  Jesus  stooped  down, 
and  with  his  finger  wrote  on  the  ground,  as  though  he  heard  them 
not.  So  when  they  continued  asking  him,  he  lift  up  himself,  and 
said  unto  them,  Ha  that  is  without  sin  amongst  you,  let  him  first 
east  a  stone  at  her;  and  again  he  stooped  down  and  wrote  on  the 
ground:  and  they  which  heard  it,  being  convicted  by  their  own 
conscience,  went  out  one  by  one,  beginning  at  the  eldest,  even  unto 
the  last ;  and  Jesus  was  left  alone,  and  the  woman  standing 
in  the  midst.  When  Jesus  had  lift  up  himself,  and  saw  none  but 
the  woman,  he  said  unto  her,  Woman,  where  are  those  thine  ac- 
cusers ?  hath  no  man  condemned  thee?  She  said  unto  him,  No 
man,  Lord.  And  he  said  unto  her,  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee  ; 
go  and  sin  no  more." 

"  This  they  said  tempting  him,  that  they  might  have  to  accuse 
him,"  to  draw  him,  that  is,  into  an  exercise  of  judicial  authority, 
that  they  might  have  to  accuse  him  before  the  Roman  governor 
of  usurping  or  intermeddling  with  the  civil  government.  This 
was  their  design,  and  Christ's  behaviour  throughout  the  whole 
affair  proceeded  from  a  knowledge  of  this  design,  and  a  determin- 
ation to  defeat  it.    He  gives  them  at  first   a  cold  and  sullen  * 


ADULTERY.  Ijy 

reception,  well  suited  to  the  insidious  intention  with  which  they 
came :  "  He  stooped  down,  and  with  his  finger  wrote  on  the 
ground,  as  though  he  heard  them  not''  "  When  they  continued 
asking  him,''  when  they  teased  him  to  speak,  he  dismissed  them 
with  a  rebuke,  which  the  impertinent  malice  of  their  errand,  as 
well  as  the  secret  character  ef  many  of  them  deserved :  "  He 
that  is  without  sin  (that  is,  this  sin,)  among  you,  let  him  first  cast 
a  stone  at  her."  This  had  its  effect.  Stung  with  the  reproof, 
and  disappointed  of  their  aim,  they  stole  away  one  by  one,  and 
left  Jesus  and  the  woman  alone.  And  then  follows  the  conver- 
sation, which  is  the  part  of  the  narrative  most  material  to  our 
present  subject.  "  Jesus  said  unto  her,  Woman,  where  are  those 
thine  accusers?  hath  no  man  condemned  thee?  She  said,  No 
man,  Lord.  And  Jesus  said  unto  her,  Neither  do  I  condemn, 
thee;  go  and  sin  no  more.''  Now,  when  Christ  asked  the  wo- 
man, "  Hath  no  man  condemned  thee  ?"  he  certainly  spoke,  and 
was  understood  by  the  woman  to  speak,  of  a  legal  and  judicial 
condemnation ;  otherwise,  her  answer,  "  No  man,  Lord,''  was 
not  true.  In  every  other  sense  of  condemnation,  as  blame,  cen- 
sure, reproof,  private  judgment,  and  the  like,  many  had  con- 
demned her ;  all  those  indeed  who  brought  her  to  Jesus.  If  then 
a  judicial  sentence,  was  what  Christ  meant  by  condemning  in  the 
question,  the  common  use  of  language  requires  us  to  suppose  that 
he  meant  the  same  in  his  reply,  "  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee," 
i.  e.  I  pretend  to  no  judicial  character  or  authority  over  thee  ;  it 
is  no  office  or  business  of  mine  to  pronounce  or  execute  the  sen* 
tence  of  the  law. 

When  Christ  adds,  "  Go  and  sin  no  more,"  he  in  effect  tells 
her,  that  she  had  sinned  already ;  but  as  to  the  degree  or  quality 
of  the  sin,  or  Christ's  opinion  concerning  it,  nothing  is  declared, 
or  can  be  inferred,  either  way. 

Adultery,  which  was  punished  with  death  during  the  Usurpa- 
tion, is  now  regarded  by  the  law  of  England,  only  as  a  civil  in- 
jury ;  for  whieh  the  imperfect  satisfaction  that  money  can  afford, 
may  be  recovered  by  the  husband. 


178 


INCEST. 


CHAPTER  V. 

INCEST. 


IN  order  to  preserve  chastity  in  families,  and  between  per- 
sons of  different  sexes,  brought  up  and  living  together  in  a  state 
of  unresei  ved  intimacy,  it  is  necessary  by  every  method  possible 
to  lucuica  e  an  abhorrence  of  incestuous  conjunctions;  which 
abhorrence  can  only  be  upheld  by  the  absolute  reprobation  of  all 
commerce  of  the  s«  xes  between  tear  relations.  Upon  this 
principle,  the  marriage  as  well  as  other  cohabitations  of  brother 
and  sisters,  of  lineal  kindred,  and  of  all  who  usually  live  in  the 
same  family,  may  be  said  to  be  forbidden  by  the  law  of  nature. 

Restrictions  which  extend  to  remoter  degrees  of  kindred  than 
what  this  reason  makes  it  necessary  to  prohibit  from  intermar- 
riage, are  founded  in  the  authority  of  the  positive  law  which 
ordains  them,  and  can  only  be  justified  by  their  tendency  to  diffuse 
wealth,  to  connect  families,  or  to  promote  some  political  advantage. 
The  Levitieal  law,  which  is  received  in  this  country,  and  from 
which  the  rule  of  the  Roman  law  differs  very  little,  prohibits* 
marriage  between  relations  within  three  degrees  of  kindred;  com- 
puting the  generations  not  from,  but  through  the  common  ances- 
tor, and  accounting  affinity  the  same  as  consanguinity.  The 
issue,  however,  of  such  marriages  are  not  bastardized,  unless  the 
parents  be  divorced  during  their  lifetime. 

The  Egyptians  are  said  to  have  allowed  of  the  marriage  of 
brothers  and  sisters.  Amongst  the  Athenians  a  very  singular 
regulation  prevailed;  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  half  blood,  if 
related  by  the  father's  side,  might  marry  ;  if  by  the  mot!  er's  side, 
they  were  prohibited  from  marrying.  The  same  custom  also 
probably  obtained  in  Chaldea  so  early  as  the  age  in  which  Abra- 
ham left  it ;  for  he  and  Sarah  his  wife  stood  in  this  relation  to 
each  other  :  si  And  yet,  indeed,  she  is  my  sister  ;  she  is  the  daugh- 
ter of  my  father,  but  not  of  my  mother,  and  she  became  my  wife." 
Gen.  xx.  12. 

*  The  Roman  law  continued  the  prohibition  to  the  descendants  of  brothers 
and  sisters  without  limits.  In  the  Levitieal  and  English  law,  there  is  nothing 
to  hinder  a  man  from  marrying  his  great  niece. 


POLYGAMY.  £7g 


CHAPTER  VI. 

POLYGAMY. 


u 


THE  equality*  iu  the  number  of  males  and  females  bom  into 
the  world,  intimates  the  intention  of  God,  that  one  woman  should 
be  assigned  to  one  man ;  for,  if  to  one  man  be  allowed  an  exclu- 
sive right  to  five  or  more  women,  four  or  more  men  must,  be  de- 
prived of  the  exclusive  possession  of  any  :  which  could  never  be 
the  order  intended. 

It  seems  also  a  significant  indication  of  the  divine  will  that  he 
at  first  created  only  one  woman  to  one  man.  Had  God  intended 
polygamy  for  the  species,  it  is  probable  he  would  have  begun 
with  it;  especially  as,  by  giving  to  Adam  more  wives  than  one* 
the  multiplication  of  the  human  race  would  have  proceeded  with 
a  quicker  progress.    * 

Polygamy  not  only  violates  the  constitution  of  nature,  and  the 
apparent  design  of  the  Deity,  but  produces  to  the  parties  them- 
selves, and  to  the  public,  the  following  bad  effects  :  contests  and 
jealousies  amongst  the  wives  of  the  same  husband ;  distracted 
affections,  or  the  loss  of  all  affection  in  the  husband  himself;  a 
voluptuousness  in  the  rich,  whieh  dissolves  the  vigour  of  their 
intellectual  as  well  as  active  faculties,  producing  that  indolence 
and  imbecility  both  of  mind  and  body,  which  have  long  char- 
acterized the  nations  of  the  East ;  the  abasement  of  oue  half  of 
the  human  species,  who,  in  countries  where  polygamy  obtains, 
are  degraded  into  mere  instruments  of  physical  pleasure  to  the 
other  half;  neglect  of  children;  and  the  manifold  and  sometimes 
unnatural  mischiefs  which  arise  from  a  scarcity  of  women.  To 
compensate  for  these  evils,  polygamy  does  not  offer  a  single 
advantage.     In   the  article   of  population,   which  it  has   been 

*  This  equality  is  not  exact.  The  number  of  male  infants  exceeds  that  of 
females  in  the  proportion  of  nineteen  to  eighteen,  or  thereabouts  ;  which  ex- 
cess provides  for  the  greater  consumption  of  males  by  war,  seafaring,  and 
other  dangerous  or  unhealthy  occupations. 


180  POLYGAMY. 

thought  to  promote,  the  community  gain  nothing  :*  for  the  ques- 
tion is  not,  whether  one  man  will  have  more  children  hy  five  or 
more  wives,  than  by  one;  but  whether  these  five  wives  would  not 
bear  the  same,  or  a  greater  number  of  children,  to  five  separate 
husbands.  And  as  to  the  care  of  the  children  when  produced, 
and  the  sending  of  them  into  the  world  in  situations  in  which 
they  may  be  likely  to  form  and  bring  up  families  of  their  own, 
upon  which  the  increase  and  succession  of  the  human  species  in 
a  great  degree  depend,  this  is  less  provided  for,  and  less  practica- 
ble, where  twenty  or  thirty  children  are  to  be  supported  by  the 
attention  and  fortunes  of  oBe  father,  than  if  they  were  divided  into 
five  or  six  families,  to  each  of  which  were  assigned  the  industry 
and  inheritance  of  two  parents. 

V  nether  simultaneous  polygamy  was  permitted  by  the  law  of 
Moses,  seems  doubtful  :f  but  whether  permitted  or  not,  it  was 
certainly  practised  by  the  Jewish  patriarchs,  both  before  that 
law,  and  under  it.  The  permission,  if  there  were  any,  might  be 
like  that  of  divorce,  "for  the  hardness  of  their  heart,"  in  con- 
descension to  their  established  indigencies,  rather  than  from  the 
general  rectitude  or  propriety  of  the  thing  itself.  The  state  of 
manners  iu  Judea,  had  probably  undergone  a  reformation  in  this 
respect  before  the  time  of  Christ,  for  in  the  New  Testament  we 
meet  with  no  trace  or  mention  of  any  such  practice  being  tol- 
erated. 

For  which  reason,  and  because  it  was  likewise  forbidden 
amongst  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  we  cannot  expect  to  find  any 

*  Nothing,  I  mean,  compared  with  a  state  in  which  marriage  is  nearly  uni- 
versal. Where  marriages  are  less  general,  and  many  women  unfruitful  from 
the  want  of  husbands,  polygamy  might  at  first  add  a  little  to  population  ;  and 
but  a  little :  for  as  a  variety  of  wives  would  be  sought  chiefly  from  tempta- 
tions of  voluptuousness.,  it  would  rather  increase  the  demand  for  female 
beauty,  than  for  the  sex  at  large.  And  this  little  would  soon  be  made  less 
bv  many  deductions.  For,  first,  as  none  but  the  opulent  can  maintain  a  plu- 
rality of  wives,  wiiere  polygamy  obtains,  the  rich  indulge  in  it,  while  the  rest 
take  up  with  a  vague  and  barren  incontinency.  And,  secondly,  women  would 
grow  less  jealous  of  their  virtue,  when  they  had  nothing  for  which  to  reserve 
it  but  a  chamber  in  the  harain;  when  their  chastity  was  no  longer  to  be  re- 
warded with  the  rights  and  happiness  of  a  wife,  as  enjoyed  under  the  mar- 
riage of  one  woman  to  one  man.  These  considerations  may  be  added  to  what 
is  mentioned  in  the  text,  concerning  the  easy  and  early  settlement  of  children 
in  the  world. 

fbee  Deut.  xvii.  16.    xxi.  15. 


POLYGAMY.  ^g  t 

express  law  upon  (he  subject  in  (he  Christian  code.  The  words 
of  Christ,*  Matt.  xix.  9,  may  be  construed  by  an  easy  implication 
to  prohibit  polygamy  ;  for,  if  "  whoever  putleth  away  his  wife, 
and  marrieth  another,  committeth  adultery/'  he  who  marrieth 
another  without  putting  away  the  first,  is  no  less  guilty  of  adul- 
tery ;  because  the  adultery  does  not  consist  in  the  repudiation  of 
the  first  wife,  (for,  however  unjust  or  cruel  that  may  be,  it  is  not 
adultery,)  but  in  entering  into  a  second  marriage  during  the  legal 
existence  and  obligation  of  the  first.  The  several  passages  in  St. 
Paul's  writings,  which  speak  of  marriage,  always  suppose  it  to 
signify  the  union  of  one  man  with  one  woman.  Upon  this  sup- 
position he  argues,  Rom.  vii.  2,  3.  "  Know  ye  not  brethren,  for  I 
speak  to  them  that  know  the  law,  how  that  the  law  hath  domin- 
ion over  a  man  as  long  as  he  liveth  ?  For  the  woman  which  hath 
an  husband,  is  bound  by  the  law  to  her  husband  so  long  as  he  liv- 
eth ;  but  if  the  husband  be  dead,  she  is  loosed  from  the  law  of  ber 
husband  :  so  then,  if  while  ber  husband  liveth,  she  be  married  to 
another  man,  she  shall  be  called  an  adultress.''  When  the  same 
Apostle  permits  marriage  to  his  Corinthian  converts  (which, 
u  for  the  present  distress,''  he  judges  to  be  inconvenient,)  he  re- 
strains the  permission  to  the  marriage  of  one  husband  with  one 
wife :  "  It  is  good  for  a  man  not  to  touch  a  woman  j  nevertheless, 
to  avoid  fornication,  let  every  man  have  his  own  wife,  and  let 
every  woman  have  her  own  husband." 

The  manners  of  different  countries  have  varied  in  nothing 
more  than  in  their  domestic  constitutions.  Less  polished  and  more 
luxurious  nations  have  either  not  perceived  the  bad  effects  of 
polygamy,  or,  if  they  did  perceive  them,  they  who  in  such  coun- 
tries possessed  the  power  of  reforming  the  laws  have  been  un- 
willing to  resign  their  own  gratifications.  Polygamy  is  retained 
at  this  day  among  the  Turks,  and  throughout  every  part  of  Asia, 
in  which  Christianity  is  not  professed.  In  Christian  countries  it 
is  universally  prohibited.  In  Sweden  it  is  punished  with  death. 
In  England,  beside,  the  nullity  of  the  second  marriage,  it  subjects 
the  offender  to  transportation  or  imprisonment  and  branding  for 
the  first  offence,  and  to  capital  punishment  for  the  second.  And 
whatever  may  be  said  in  behalf  of  polygamy,  when  it  is  authoriz- 

•  "1  say  unto  you,  Whosoever  shall  put  away  his  wife,  except  it  be  for 
fornication,  and  shall  marry  another,  committeth  adultery." 


±82  0F  DIVORCE. 

ed  by  the  law  of  the  land,  the  marriage  of  a  second  wife,  during 
the  lifetime  of  the  first,  in  countries  where  such  a  second  marriage 
is  void,  must  be  ranked  with  the  most  dangerous  and  cruel  of 
those  frauds,  by  which  a  woman  is  cheated  out  of  her  fortune, 
her  person,  and  her  happiness. 

The  ancient  Medes  compelled  their  citizens,  in  one  canton,  to 
take  seven  wives ;  in  another,  each  woman  to  receive  five  hus- 
bands; according  as  war  had  made,  in  one  quarter  of  their  coun- 
try, an  extraordinary  havoc  among  the  men,  or  the  women  had  been 
carried  away  by  an  enemy  from  another.  This  regulation,  so 
far  as  it  was  adapted  to  the  proportion  which  subsisted  between 
the  numbers  of  males  and  females,  was  founded  in  the  reason 
upon  which  the  most  improved  nations  of  Europe  proceed  at 
present. 

Caesar  found  amongst  the  inhabitants  of  this  island  a  species 
of  polygamy,  if  it  may  be  so  called,  which  was  perfectly  singu- 
lar. Uxores,  says  he,  habent  deni  duodenique  inter  se  communes, 
et  maxime  fratres  cum  fratribus.  parentesque  cum  liberis :  sed  si 
qui  sint  ex  his  nati,  eorum  habentur  liberi,  quo  primum  virgo 
qceque  deducta  est. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  DIVORCE. 

J3c    divers  Z[n^no^-  flfc~*&wL£^l  °-f- 

BY  divorce,  I  mean  the  dissolution  of  the  marriage  contract, 
by  the  act,  and  at  the  will  of  the  husband. 

This  power  was  allowed  to  the  husband,  among  the  Jews,  the 
Greeks  and  latter  Romans ;  and  is  at  this  day  exercised  by  the 
Turks  and  Persians. 

The  congruity  of  sueh  a  right  with  the  law  of  nature,  is  the 
question  before  us. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  manifestly  inconsistent  with  the 
duty  which  the  parents  owe  to  their  children ;  which  duty  can 
never  be  so  well  fulfilled  as  by  their  cohabitation  and  united 
eare.    It  is  also  incompatible  with  the  right  which  the  mother 


OF  DIVORCE.  183 

possesses,  as  well  as  the  father,  to  the  gratitude  of  her  children, 
and  the  comfort  of  their  society;  of  both  which  she  is  almost 
necessarily    deprived,    by   her   dismission  from    her   husband's 

family. 

Where  this  objection  does  not  interfere,  I  know  of  no  principle 
of  lite  law  of  mil  lire  applicable  to  the  question,  beside  that  of 
general  expediency. 

For,  if'  we  say,  that  arbitrary  divorces  are  excluded  by  the 
terms  of  the  marriage  contract,  it  may  be  answered,  that  the  eon- 
tract  might  be  so  framed  as  to  admit  of  this  condition. 

If  we  argue  with  some  moralists,  lhat  the  obligation  of  a  con- 
tract oaturaliy  continues,  so  long  as  the  purpose,  which  the  con- 
tracting parties  had  in  view,  requires  its  continuance;  it  will  be 
difficult  to  show  what  purpose  of  the  contract  (the  care  of  chil- 
dren excepted.)  should  confiue  a  man  to  a  woman,  from  whom  ha 
seeks  to  be  loose. 

If  we  contend  with  others,  that  a  contract  cannot,  by  the  law 
of  nature,  be  dissolved,  unless  the  parties  be  replaced  in  the  situa- 
tion which  each  possessed  before  the  contract  was  entered  into; 
we  shall  be  called  upon  to  prove  this  to  be  an  universal  or  indis- 
pensable properly  of  contracts. 

I  confess  myself  unable  to  assign  any  circumstance  in  the  mar- 
riage contract,  which  essentially  distinguishes  it  from  other  con- 
tracts, or  which  proves  that  it  contains,  what  many  have  ascrib- 
ed to  it,  a  natural  incapacity  of  being  dissolved  by  the  consent  of 
the  parties,  at  the  option  of  one  of  them,  or  either  of  them.  But 
if  we  trace  the  effects  of  such  a  rule,  upon  the  general  happiness 
of  married  life,  we  shall  perceive  reasons  of  expediency,  that 
abundantly  justify  the  policy  of  those  laws  which  refuse  to  the 
husband  the  power  of  divorce,  or  restrain  it  to  a  few  extreme  and 
specific  provocations  ;  and  our  principles  teach  us  to  pronounce 
that  to  be  contrary  to  the  law  of  nature,  which  can  be  proved  to 
be  detrimental  to  the  common  happiness  of  the  human  species. 

A  lawgiver,  whose  counsels  are  directed  by  views  of  general 
utility,  and  obstructed  by  no  local  impediment,  would  make  the 
marriage  contract  indissoluble  during  the  joint  lives  of  the  par- 
ties for  the  sake  of  the  following  advantages  : 

I.  Because  this  tends  to  preserve  peace  and  concord  between 
married  persons,  by  perpetuating  their  common  interest,  and  by 
inducing  a  necessity  of  mutual  compliance. 


/ 


/ 


^S-t,  OF  DIVORCE. 


There  is  great  weight  ami  substance  in  both  these  considera- 
tions. An  earlier  termination  of  the  union  would  produce  a 
separate  interest.  The  wife  would  naturally  look  forward  to  the 
dissolution  of  the  partnership,  and  endeavour  to  draw  to  herself 
a  fund  against  the  time  when  she  was  no  longer  to  have  access  to 
the  same  resources.  This  would  beget  peculation  on  one  side, 
and  mistrust  on  the  other ;  evils  which  at  present  very  little  dis- 
turb the  confidence  of  married  life.  The  second  effect  of  making 
the  union  determinable  only  by  death,  is  not  less  beneficial.  It 
necessarily  happens  that  adverse  tempers,  habits,  and  tastes, 
oftentimes  meet  in  marriage.  In  which  cases,  each  party  must 
take  pains  to  give  up  what  offends,  and  practise  what  may  gratify 
the  other.  A  man  and  woman  in  love  with  each  other  do  this 
insensibly ;  but  love  is  neither  general  nor  durable ;  and  where 
that  is  wanting,  no  lessons  of  duty,  no  delicacy  of  sentiment,  will 
go  half  so  far  with  the  generality  of  mankind  and  womankind,  as 
this  one  intelligible  reflection,  that  they  must  each  make  the  best 
of  their  bargain ;  and  that  seeing  they  must  either  both  be  mis- 
erable, or  both  share  in  the  same  happiness,  neither  can  find  their 
owu  comfort,  but  in  promoting  the  pleasure  of  the  other.  These 
compliances,  though  at  first  extorted  by  necessity,  become  in  time 
easy  and  mutual ;  and  though  less  endearing  than  assiduities 
which  take  their  rise  from  affection,  generally  procure  to  the 
married  pair  a  repose  and  satisfaction  sufficient  for  their  happi- 
ness.    J  ex.    cTo^i^eW^/x.. 

II.  Because  new  objects  of  desire  would  be  continually  sought 
after,  if  men  could,  at  will,  be  released  from  their  subsisting  en- 
gagements. Suppose  the  husband  to  have  once  preferred  his  wife 
to  all  other  women,  the  duration  of  this  preference  cannot  be 
trusted  to.  Possession  makes  a  great  difference :  and  there  is  no 
other  security  against  the  invitations  of  novelty,  than  the  known 
impossibility  of  obtaining  the  object.  Did  the  cause,  which  brings 
the  sexes  together,  hold  them  together  by  the  same  force  with 
which  it  first  attracted  them  to  each  other,  or  could  the  woman 
be  restored  to  her  personal  integrity,  and  to  all  the  advantages  of 
her  virgin  estate ;  the  power  of  divorce  might  be  deposited  in  the 
hands  of  the  husband,  with  less  danger  of  abuse  or  inconveniency. 
But  constituted  as  mankind  are,  and  injured  as  the  repudiated 
wife  generally  must  be,  it  is  necessary  to  add  a  stability  to  the 
condition  of  married  women,  more  secure  than  the  continuance  of 


OP  DIVORCE;  •       «j[gg 

their  husband's  affection ;  and  to  supply  to  both  sides,  by  a  sense 
of  duty  and  of  obligation,  what  satiety  has  impaired  of  passion  and 
of  personal  attachment.  Upon  the  whole,  the  power  of  divorce 
is  evidently  and  greatly  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  woman ;  and 
the  only  question  appears  to  be,  whether  the  real  and  permanent 
happiness  of  one  half  of  the  species  sbould  be  surrendered  to  the 
caprice  and  voluptuousness  of  the  other  ? 

We  have  considered  divorces  as  depending  upon  the  will  of  the 
husband,  because  that  is  the  way  in  which  they  have  actually 
obtained  in  many  parts  of  the  world :  but  the  same  objections 
apply,  in  a  great  degree,  to  divorces  by  mutual  cousent;  espe- 
cially when  we  consider  the  indelicate  situation  and  small  pros- 
pect of  happiness,  which  remains  to  the  party,  who  opposed  his 
or  her  dissent  to  the  liberty  and  desire  of  the  other. 

The  law  of  nature  admits  of  an  exception  in  favour  of  the  in- 
jured party,  in  cases  of  adultery,  of  obstinate  desertion,  of  attempts 
upon  life,  of  outrageous  cruelty,  of  incurable  madness,  and,  per- 
haps, of  personal  imbecility;  but  by  no  means  indulges  the  same 
privilege  to  mere  dislike,  to  opposition  of  humours  and  inclina- 
tions, to  contrariety  of  taste  and  temper,  to  complaints  of  cold- 
ness, neglect,  severity,  peevishness,  jealousy ;  not  that  these 
reasons  ar.e  trivial,  but  because  such  objections  may  always  be 
alleged,  and  are  impossible  by  testimony  to  be  ascertained  ;  so 
that  to  allow  implicit  credit  to  them,  and  to  dissolve  marriages 
whenever  either  party  thought  fit  to  pretend  them,  would  lead  in 
its  effect  to  all  the  licentiousness  of  arbitrary  divorces. 

Milton's  story  is  well  known.  Upon  a  quarrel  with  his  wife, 
he  paid  his  addresses  to  another  woman,  and  set  forth  a  public 
vindication  of  Ins  conduct,  by  attempting  to  prove,  that  confirmed 
dislike  was  as  just  a  foundation  for  dissolving  the  marriage  con- 
tract, as  adultery  ;  to  which  position,  and  to  all  the  arguments  by 
which  it  can  be  supported,  the  above  consideration  affords  a  suffi- 
cient answer.  Aud  if  a  married  pair,  in  actual  and  irreconcila- 
ble discord,  complain  that  their  happiness  would  be  better  con- 
sulted, by  permitting  them  to  determine  a  conuexion,  which  is 
become  odious  to  both,  it  may  be  told  them,  that  the  same  per- 
mission, as  a  general  rule,  would  produce  libertinism,  dissension, 
and  misery,  amongst  thousands,  who  are  now  virtuous,  and  quiet, 
and  happy,  in  their  condition :  and  it  ought  to  satisfy  them  to 
reflect,  that  when  their  happiness  is  sacrificed  to  the  operation  of 


£86  OF  DIVORCE. 

an  unrelenting  rule,  it  is  sacrificed  to  the  happiness  of  the  com- 
munity. 

The  scriptures  seem  to  have  drawn  the  obligation  tighter  than 
the  law  of  nature  left  it.  "  Whosoever,"  saith  Christ,  "  shall 
pat  away  his  wife,  except  it  be  for  fornication,  and  shall  marry 
another,  committeth  adultery  ;  and  whoso  marrieth  her  which  is 
put  away,  doth  commit  adultery."  Matt.  xix.  9.  The  law  of 
Moses,  for  reasons  of  local  expediency,  permitted  the  Jewish  hus- 
band to  put  away  his  wife  ;  but  whether  for  every  cause,  or  for 
what  causes,  appears  to  have  been  controverted  amongst  the  inter- 
preters of  those  times.  Christ,  the  precepts  of  whose  religion 
were  calculated  for  more  general  use  and  observation,  revokes 
this  permission,  as  given  to  the  Jews  "for  the  hardness  of  their 
hearts,''  and  promulges  a  law  which  was  thenceforward  to  confine 
divorces  to  the  single  cause  of  adultery  in  the  wife.  And  I 
see  no  sufficient  reason  to  depart  from  the  plain  and  s'trict  mean- 
ing of  Christ's  words.  The  rule  was  new.  It  both  surprised 
and  offended  his  disciples ;  yet  Christ  added  nothing  to  relax  or 
explain  it. 

Inferiour  causes  may  justify  the  separation  of  husband  and 
wife,  although  they  will  not  authorize  such  a  dissolution  of  the 
marriage  contract,  as  would  leave  either  party  at  liberty  to  marry 
again  ;  for  it  is  that  liberty  in  which  the  danger  and  mischief  of 
divorces  principally  consist.  If  the  care  of  children  does  nor 
require  that  they  should  live  together,  and  it  is  become,  in  the 
serious  judgment  of  both,  necessary  for  their  mutual  happiness 
that  they  should  separate,  let  them  separate  by  consent.  Never- 
theless, this  necessity  can  hardly  exist,  without  guilt  and  miscon- 
duct on  one  side  or  on  both.  Moreover,  cruelty,  ill-usage,  ex- 
treme violence,  or  moroseness  of  temper,  or  other  great  and  con- 
tinued provocations,  make  it  lawful  for  the  party  aggrieved  to 
withdraw  from  the  society  of  the  offender  without  his  or  her  con- 
sent. The  law*  which  imposes  the  marriage  vow,  whereby  the 
parties  promise  to  M  keep  to  each  other,"  or,  in  other  words,  to 
live  together,  must  be  understood  to  impose  it  with  a  silent  reser- 
vation of  these  cases ;  because  the  same  law  has  constituted  a 
judicial  relief  from  the  tyranny  of  the  husband,  by  the  divorce  a 
mensa  et  toro,  and  by  the  provision  which  it  makes  for  the  separ- 
ate maintenance  of  the  injured  wife.  St.  Paul  likewise  distin- 
guishes between  a  wife's  merely  separating  herself  from  the  family 


OF  divorce.  487 

©f  her  husband,  and  her  marrying  again :  "  Let  not  the  wife 
depart  from  her  husband  ;  but,  and  if  she  do  depart,  let  her  re- 
main unmarried.'' 

The  law  of  this  country,  in  conformity  to  our  Saviour's  injunc- 
tion, confines  the  dissolution  of  the  marriage  contract  to  the  single 
ease  of  adultery  in  the  wife  ;  and  a  divorce  even  in  that  case  caa 
only  be  brought  about  by  the  operation  of  an  act  of  parliament, 
founded  upon  a  previous  sentence  in  the  ecclesiastical  court,  and 
a  verdict  against  the  adulterer  at  common  law:  whichj proceed- 
ings taken  together  compose  as  complete  an  investigation  of  the 
complaint   as  a  cause  can  receive.     It  has  lately  been  proposed 
to  the  legislature  to  annex  a  clause  to  these  acts,  restraining  the 
offending  party  from  marrying  with  the  companion  of  her  crime, 
who,  by  the  course  of  proceeding,  is  always  known  and  convicted ; 
for  there  is  reason  to  fear,  that  adulterous  connexions  are  often 
formed  with  the  prospect  of  bringing  them  to  this  conclusion; 
at  least,  when  the  seducer  has  once  captivated  the  affection  of  a 
married  woman,  he  may  avail  himself  of  this  tempting  argument 
to  subdue  her  scruples,  and  complete  his  victory  ;  and  the  legisla- 
ture, as  the  business  is  managed  at  present,  assists  by  its  interpo- 
sition the  criminal  design  of  the  offenders,  and  confers  a  privilege 
where  it  ought  to  inflict  a  punishment.     The  proposal  deserved 
an  experiment;  hut  something  more  penal  will,  I  apprehend,  be 
found  necessary  to  check  the  progress  of  this  alarming  depravity. 
Whether  a  law  might  not  be  framed  directing  the  fortune  of  the 
adulteress  to  descend  as  in  case  of  her  natural  death  ;  reserving, 
however,  a  certain  proportion  of  the  produce  of  it,  by  way  of  annui- 
ty, for  her  subsistence  (such  annuity,  in  no  case,  to  exceed  a  fixed 
sum,)  and  also  so  far  suspending  the  estate  in  the  hands  of  the 
heir  as  to  preserve   the  inheritance   to  any  children  she  might 
hear  to  a  second  marriage,  in  case  there  was  none  to  succeed  in 
the  place  of  their  mother  by  the  first ;  whether,  I  say,  such  a  law 
would  not  render  female  virtue  in  higher  life  less  vincible,  as 
well  as  the  seducers  of  that  virtue  less  urgent  in  their  suit,  we  re- 
commend to  the  deliberation  of  those,  who  are  wilting  to  attempt 
the  reformation  of  this  important,  but  most  incorrigible,  class  of 
the  community.     A  passion  for  splendour,  for  expensive  amuse- 
ments and  distinctions,  is  commonly  found,  in  that  description  of 
women  who  would  become  the  objects  of  such  a  law,  not  less  in- 
ordinate than  their  other  appetites.    A  severity  of  the  kind  we 


|g§  MARRIAGE. 

propose  applies  immediately  to  that  passion.  Aud  there  is  bo 
room  for  any  complaint  of  injustice,  since  the  provisions  above 
stated,  with  others  which  might  be  contrived,  confine  the  punish- 
ment, so  far  as  it  is  possible,  to  the  person  of  the  offender ;  suffer- 
ing the  estate  to  remain  to  the  heir,  or  withiu  the  family,  of  the  an- 
cestor from  whom  it  came,orto  altend  the  appointments  of  his  will. 
Sentences  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  which  release  the  par- 
ties a  vinculo  matrimonii  by  reason  of  impuberty,  frigidity,  con- 
sanguinity within  the  prohibited  degrees,  prior  marriage,  or  want 
of  the  requisite  consent  of  parents  or  guardians,  are  not  dissolu- 
tions of  the  marriage  contract,  but  judicial  declarations  that  there 
never  was  any  marriage ;  such  impediment  subsisting  at  the 
time  as  rendered  the  celebration  of  the  marriage  rite  a  mere 
nullity.  And  the  rite  itself  contains  an  exception  of  these  im- 
pediments. The  man  and  woman  to  be  married  are  charged,  "  if 
they  know  any  impediment  why  they  may  not  be  lawfully  joined 
together,  to  confess  it  ;*'  and  assured  "  that  so  many  as  are  coupled 
together,  otherwise  than  God's  word  doth  allow,  are  not  joined 
together  by  God,  neiiher  is  their  matrimony  lawful j"  all  which 
is  intended  by  way  of  solemn  notice  to  the  parties,  that  the  vow 
they  are  about  to  make  will  hind  their  consciences  and  authorize 
their  cohabitation,  only  upon  the  supposition  that  no  legal 
impediment  exits. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MARRIAGE. 

WHETHER  it  hath  grown  out  of  some  tradition  of  the  divine 
appointment  of  marriage  in  the  persons  of  our  first  parents,  or 
merely  from  a  design  to  impress  the  obligation  of  the  marriage 
contract  with  a  solemnity  suited  to  its  importance,  the  marriage 
rite,  in  almost  all  countries  of  the  world,  has  been  made  a  re- 
ligions  ceremony  ;*  although  marriage,  in  its  own  nature,  and 

*  It  was  not,  however,  in  Christian  countries  required,  that  marriages 
should  be  celebrated  in  churches,  till  the  thirteenth  century  of  the  Christian 
era.  Marriages  in  England,  during  the  Usurpation,  were  solemnized  before 
justices  of  the  peace  ;  but  for  what  purpose  this  novelty  was  introduced,  ex- 
cept to  degrade  the  clergy,  does  not  appear. 


MARRIAGE.  Jgy 

abstracted  from  the  rules  and  declarations  which  the  Jewish  and 
Christian  scriptures  deliver  concerning  it,  be  properly  a  civil 
contract,  and  nothing  more. 

With  respect  to  one  main  article  in  matrimonial  alliances,  a 
total  alteration  has  taken  place  in  the  fashion  of  the  world ;  the 
wife  now  brings  money  to  her  husband,  whereas  anciently  the 
husband  paid  money  to  the  family  of  the  wife  ;  as  was  the  case 
among  the  Jewish  patriarchs,  the  Greeks^  and  the  old  inhabitants 
of  Germany.*  This  alteration  has  proved  of  no  small  advantage 
to  the  female  sex ;  for  their  importance  in  point  of  fortune  procures 
to  them,  in  modern  times,  that  assiduity  and  respect,  which  are 
always  wanted  to  compensate  for  the  inferiority  of  their  strength  ; 
but  which  their  personal  attractions  would  not  always  secure. 

Our  business  is  with  marriage  as  it  is  established  in  this  coun- 
try. And  in  treating  thereof,  it  will  be  necessary  to  state  the 
terms  of  the  marriage  vow,  in  order  to  discover  : 

1.  What  duties  this  vow  creates. 

2.  What  a  situation  of  mind- at  the  time  is  inconsistent  with  it. 

3.  By  what  subsequent  behaviour  it  is  violated. 

The  husband  promises,  on  his  part,  "to  love,  comfort,  honour, 
and  keep  his  wife;"  the  wife  on  hers,  "  to  obej,  serve,  love, 
honour,  and  keep  her  husband;"  in  every  variety  of  health,  for- 
tune, and  condition  ;  and  both  stipulate,  "  to  forsake  all  others, 
and  to  keep  only  unto  one  another, so  long  as  they  both  shall  live." 
This  promise  is  called  the  marriage  vow ;  is  witnessed  before 
God  and  the  congregation;  accompanied  with  prayers  to  Almighty 
God  for  his  blessing  upon  it ;  and  attended  with  such  circum- 
stances of  devotion  and  solemnity,  as  place  the  obligation  of  it, 
and  the  guilt  of  violating  it,  nearly  upon  the  same  foundation 
with  that  of  oaths. 

The  parties  by  this  vow  engage  their  personal  fidelity  express- 
ly and  specifically  ;  they  engage  likewise  to  consult  and  promote 
each  other's  happiness  ;  the  wife,  moreover,  promises  obedience, 
to  her  husband.  Nature  may  have  made  and  left  the  sexes  of 
the  human  species  nearly  equal  in  their  faculties,  and  perfectly 
so  in  their  rights  ;  but  to  guard  against  those  competitions  which 
equality,  or  a  contested  superiority,  is  almost  sure  to  produce,  the 

*  The  ancient  Assyrians  sold  their  beautieshy  an  annual  auction.  The  prices 
were  applied  by  way  of  portions  to  tbe  more  homely.  By  this  contrivance  all 
of  both  sorts  were  disposed  of  in  marriage. 


f90  MARRIAGE. 

Christian  scriptures  enjoin  upon  the  wife  that  obedience  which 
she  here  promises,  and  in  terms  so  peremptory  and  absolute,  that 
it  seems  to  extend  to  every  thing  not  criminal,  or  not  entirely  in- 
consistent with  the  woman's  happiness.  "Let  the  wife,''  says 
St.  Paul,  "be  subject  to  her  own  husband  in  every  thing." — 
"  The  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,''  says  the  Apostle 
Peter,  speaking  of  the  duty  of  wives,  "  is,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
of  great  price."  No  words  ever  expressed  the  true  merit  of  the 
female  character  so  well  as  these. 

The  condition  of  human  life  will  not  permit  us  to  say,  that  no 
one  can  conscientiously  marry,  who  does  not  prefer  the  person  at 
the  altar  to  all  other  men  or  women  in  the  world :  but  we  can 
Lave  no  difficulty  in  pronouncing  (whether  we  respect  the  end 
of  the  institution,  or  the  plain  terms  in  which  the  contract  is 
conceived,)  that  whoever  is  conscious,  at  the  time  of  his  marriage, 
of  such  a  dislike  to  the  woman  he  is  about  to  marry,  or  of  such  a 
subsisting  attachment  to  some  other  woman,  that  he  cannot  rea- 
sonably, nor  does  in  fact,  expect  ever  to  entertain  an  affection  for 
his  future  wife,  is  guilty,  when  he  pronounces  the  marriage  vow, 
of  a  direct  and  deliberate  prevarication  ;  and  that,  too,  aggravat- 
ed by  the  presence  of  those  ideas  of  religion,  and  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  which  the  place,  the  ritual,  and  the  solemnity  of  the  oc- 
casion, cannot  fail  of  bringing  to  his  thoughts.  The  same  like- 
wise of  the  woman.  This  charge  must  be  imputed  to  all,  who, 
from  mercenary  motives,  marry  the  objects  of  their  aversion  and 
disgust ;  and  likewise  to  those  who  desert,  from  any  motive  what- 
ever, the  object  of  their  affection,  and,  without  being  able  to  sub- 
due that  affection,  marry  another. 

The  crime  of  falsehood  is  also  incurred  by  the  man,  who  in- 
tends, at  the  time  of  his  marriage,  to  commence,  renew,  or  con- 
tinue a  personal  commerce  with  any  other  woman.  And  the  parity 
of  reason,  if  a  wife  be  capable  of  so  much  guilt,  extends  to  her. 

The  marriage  vow  is  violated, 

I.  By  adultery. 

II.  By  any  behaviour  which,  knowingly,  renders  the  life  of 
the  other  miserable  ;  as  desertion,  neglect,  prodigality,  drunken- 
ness, peevishness,  penuriousness,  jealousy,  or  any  levity  of  con- 
duct, which  administers  occasion  of  jealousy. 


DUTY  OF  PARENTS.  ±Ql 

A  late  regulation  in  the  law  of  marriages,  in  this  country,  has 
made  the  consent  of  the  father,  if  he  be  living,  of  the  mother,  if 
she  survive  the  father,  and  remain  unmarried,  or  of -guardians, 
if  both  parents  be  dead,  necessary  to  the  marriage  of  a  person 
under  twenty-one  years  of  age.  By  the  Roman  law,  the  consent 
et  avi  et  patries  was  required  so  long  as  they  lived.  In  France, 
the  consent  of  parents  is  necessary  to  the  marriage  of  soas,  until 
they  attain  to  thirty  years  of  age  ;  of  daughters  until  twenty-five. 
In  Holland,  for  sons  till  twenty-five;  for  daughters  till  twenty. 
And  this  distinction  between  the  sexes  appears  to  be  well  found- 
ed, for  a  woman  is  usually  as  properly  qualified  for  the  domestic 
and  interiour  duties  of  a  wife  or  mother  at  eighteen,  as  a  man  is  for 
the  business  of  the  world,  and  the  more  arduous  care  of  providing 
for  a  family  at  twenty-one. 

The  constitution  also  of  the  human  species  indicates  the  same 
distinction.* 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OF  THE  DUTY  OF  PARENTS. 

THAT  virtue,  which  confines  its  beneficence  within  the  walla 
ef  a  man's  own  house,  we  have  been  accustomed  to  consider  as 
little  better  than  a  more  refined  selfishuess  ;  and  yet  it  will  be 
confessed,  that  the  subject  and  matter  of  this  class  of  duties  are 
inferiour  to  none  in  utility  and  importance :  and  where,  it  may 
he  asked,  is  the  virtue  the  most  valuable,  but  where  it  does  the 
most  good  ?  What  duty  is  the  most  obligatory,  but  that  on 
which  the  most  depends  ?  And  where  have  we  happiness  and 
misery  so  much  in  our  power,  or  liable  to  be  so  affected  by  our 
conduct,  as  in  our  own  families  ?  It  will  also  be  acknowledged, 
that  the  good  order  and  happiness  of  the  world  are  better  up* 
holdeu,  whilst  each  man  applies  himself  to  his  own  concerns  and 

*  Cum  vis  prolem  procreandi  diutius  hxreat  in  mare  quam  in  fccmina, 
populi  numerus  nequaquam  minuetur,  si  serins  venerem  colere  inceperint 
viri. 


igg  DUTY  OF  PARENTS. 

the  care  of  Lis  own  family,  to  which  he  is  present,  than  if  every 
man  from  an  excess  of  mistaken  generosity,  should  leave  his  own 
business,  to  undertake  his  neighbour's,  which  he  must  always 
manage  with  less  knowledge,  conveniency,  and  success.  If, 
therefore,  the  low  estimation  of  these  virtues  be  well  founded,  it 
must  be  owing  not  to  their  inferiour  importance,  but  to  some  de- 
fect or  impurity  in  the  motive.  And  indeed  it  cannot  be  denied, 
but  that  it  is  in  the  power  of  association  so  to  unite  our  children's 
interest  with  our  own,  as  that  we  shall  often  pursue  both  from 
the  same  motive,  place  both  in  the  same  object,  and  with  as  little 
sense  of  duty  in  one  pursuit  as  in  the  other.  Where  this  is  the 
case  the  judgment  above  stated  is  not  far  from  the  truth.  And  so 
often  as  we  find  a  solicitous  care  of  a  man's  own  family,  in  a 
total  absence  or  extreme  penury  of  every  other  virtue,  or  inter- 
fering with  other  duties,  or  directing  its  operation  solely  to  the 
temporal  happiness  of  the  children,  placing  that  happiness 
vfc^iHwJ.  amusement  hi  indulgence  whilst  they  are  young,  or  in  ad- 
vancement of  fortune  when  they  grow  up,  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  this  is  the  case.  In  this  way  the  common  opinion 
concerning  these  duties  may  be  accounted  for  and  defended.  If 
we  look  to  the  subject  of  them,  we  perceive  them  to  be  indis- 
pensable :  if  we  regard  the  motive,  we  find  them  often  not  very 
meritorious.  Wherefore,  although  a  man  seldom  rises  high  in 
our  esteem,  who  has  nothing  to  recommend  him  beside  the  care 
of  his  own  family,  yet  we  always  condemn  the  neglect  of  this 
duty  with  the  utmost  severity :  both  by  reason  of  the  manifest 
and  immediate  mischief  which  we  see  arising  from  this  neglect, 
and  because  it  argues  a  want  not  only  of  parental  affection,  but 
of  those  moral  principles  which  ought  to  come  in  aid  of  that  af- 
fection where  it  is  wanting.  And  if,  on  the  other  hand,  our 
praise  and  esteem  of  these  duties  be  not  proportioned  to  the  good 
they  produce,  or  to  the  indignation  with  which  we  resent  the 
absence  of  them,  it  is  for  this  reason,  that  virtue  is  the  most  val- 
uable, not  where  it  produces  the  most  good,  but  where  it  is  the 
most  Avanted  ;  which^is  not  the  case  here ;  because  its  place  is 
often  supplied  by  instincts,  or  involuntary  associations.  Never- 
theless, the  offices  of  a  parent  may  be  discharged  from  a  con- 
sciousness of  their  obligation,  as  well  as  other  duties ;  and  a 
sense  of  this  obligation  is  sometimes  necessary  to  assist  the  stim- 
ulus of  parental  affection  :  especially  in  stations  of  life,  in  which 


DUTY  OP  PARENTS.  1Q3 

the  wants  of  a  family  cannot  be  supplied  without  the  continual 
hard  labour  of  the  father,  and  without  his  refraining  from  many 
indulgencies  and  recreations,  which  unmarried  men  of  like  con- 
dition are  able  to  purchase.  Where  the  parental  affection  is 
sufficiently  strong,  or  has  fewer  difficulties  to  surmount,  a  princi- 
ple of  duty  may  still  be  wanted  to  direct  and  regulate  its  exer- 
tions ;  for,  otherwise,  it  is  apt  to  spend  and  waste  itself  in  a 
womanish  fondness,  for  the  person  of  the  child  ;  an  improvideut 
attention  to  his  present  ease  and  gratification  ;  a  pernicious  fa- 
cility and  compliance  with  his  humours ;  an  excessive  and  super- 
fluous care  to  provide  the  externals  of  happiness,  with  little  or  no 
attention  to  the  internal  sources  of  virtue  and  satisfaction.  Uni- 
versally, wherever  a  parent's  conduct  is  prompted  or  directed  by 
a  seuse  of  duty,  there  is  so  much  virtue. 

Having  premised  thus  much  concerning  the  place  which  pa- 
rental duties  hold  in  the  scale  of  human  virtues,  we  proceed  to 
state  and  explain  the  duties  themselves. 

When  moralists  tell  us,  that  parents  are  bound  to  do  all  they 
ean  for  their  children,  they  tell  us  more  than  is  true ;  for,  at 
that  rate,  every  expense  which  might  have  been  spared,  and 
every  profit  omitted  which  might  have  been  made,  would  be 
criminal. 

The  duty  of  parents  has  its  limits,  like  other  duties  ;  and  ad- 
mits, if  not  of  perfect  precision,  at  least  of  rule  definite  enough 
for  application. 

These  rules  maybe  explained  under  the  several  heads  of  main,' 
tenance.  education,  and  a  reasonable  provision  for  the  chiWs  liap-\J 
piness  in  respect  of  outward  condition. 

I.  Maintenance. 

The  wants  of  children  make  it  necessary  that  some  person 
maintain  them;  and  as  no  one  has  a  right  to  burthen  others  by 
his  act,  it  follows,  that  the  parents  are  bound  to  undertake  this 
eharge  themselves.  Beside  this  plain  inference,  the  affection  of 
parents  to  their  children,  if  it  be  instinctive,  and  the  provision 
which  nature  has  prepared  in  the  person  of  the  mother,  for  the 
sustentation  of  the  infant,  concerning  the  existence  and  design  of 
which  there  can  be  no  doubt,  are  manifest  indications  of  the 
divine  will. 

Hence  we  learn  the  guilt  of  those  who  run  away  from  their 
families,  or  (what  is  much  the  same;)  in  consequence  ef  idleness 


i  94  DUTY  OF  PARENTS. 

or  drunkenness,  throw  them  upon  a  parish  ;  or  who  leave"  them 
destitute  at  their  death,  when  by  diligence  and  frugality,  they 
might  have  laid  up  a  provision  for  their  support :  also  of  those, 
who  refuse  or  neglect  the  care  of  their  bastard  offspring,  aban- 
doning them  to  a  condition  in  which  they  must  either  perish  or 
become  burthensome  to  others ;  for  the  duty  of  maintenance,  like 
the  reason  upon  whieh  it  is  founded,  extends  to  bastards,  as  well 
as  to  legitimate  children. 

The  Christian  scriptures,  although  they  concern  themselves 
little  with  maxims  of  prudence  or  economy,  and  much  less  au- 
thorize worldly-mindedness  or  avarice,  have  yet  declared  in  ex- 
plicit terms  their  judgment  of  the  obligation  of  this  duty  :  "  If 
any  provide  not  for  his  own,  especially  for  those  of  his  own 
household,  he  hath  denied  the  faith  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel ;" 
(1  Tim.  v.  8.)  he  hath  disgraced  the  Christian  profession,  and 
fallen  short  in  a  duty  which  even  infidels  acknowledge. 

II.  Education. 

Education,  in  the  most  extensive  sense  of  the  word,  may  com- 
prehend every  preparation  that  is  made  in  our  youth  for  the 
sequel  of  our  lives:  and  in  this  sense  I  use  it. 

Some  such  preparation  is  necessary  for  children  of  all  condi- 
tions, because,  without  it,  they  must  be  miserable,  and  probably 
will  be  vicious,  when  they  grow  up,  either  from  want  of  the 
means  of  subsistence,  or  from  want  of  rational  and  inoffensive 
occupation.  In  civilized  life,  every  thing  is  effected  by  art  and 
skill.  Whence  a  person  who  is  provided  with  neither  (and  neither 
can  be  acquired  without  exercise  and  instruction)  will  be  useless  ; 
and  he  that  is  useless  will  generally  be  at  the  same  time  mis- 
chievous to  the  community.  So  that  to  send  an  uneducated 
child  into  the  world,  is  injurious  to  the  rest  of  mankind;  it  is 
little  better  than  to  turn  out  a  mad  dog  or  a  wild  beast  into  the 
streets. 

In  the  inferiour  classes  of  the  community,  this  principle  con- 
demns the  neglect  of  parents,  who  do  not  inure  their  children 
betimes  to  labour  and  restraint,  by  providing  them  with  appren- 
ticeships, services  or  other  regular  employment,  but  who  suffer 
them  to  waste  their  youth  in  idleness  and  vagrancy,  or  to  betake 
themselves  to  some  lazy,  trifling,  and  precarious  calling  ;  for  the 
consequence  of  having  thus  tasted  the  sweets  of  natural  liberty, 
at  an  age  when  their  passion  and  relish  for  it  are  at  the  highest, 


DUTY  OF  PARENTS.  £gg 

is,  that  they  become  incapable  for  the  remainder  of  their  lives 
of  continued  industry,  or  of  persevering  attention  to  any  thing; 
spend  their  time  in  a  miserable  struggle  between  the  importunity 
of  want,  and  the  irksomeness  of  regular  application  ;  and  are 
prepared  to  embrace  every  expedient,  which  preseuts  a  hope  of 
supplying  their  necessities,  without  confining  them  to  the  plough, 
the  loom,  the  shop,  or  the  counting-house. 

In  the  middle  orders  of  society,  those  parents  are  most  repre- 
hensible, who  neither  qualify  their  children  for  a  profession,  nor 
enable  them  to  live  without  one  ;*  and  those  in  the  highest,  who, 
from  indolence,  indulgence,  or  avarice,  omit  to  procure  their 
children  those  liberal  attainments,  which  are  necessary  to  make 
them  useful  in  the  stations  to  which  they  are  destined.  A  man 
of  fortune,  who  permits  his  son  to  consume  the  season  of  education 
in  hunting,  shooting,  or  in  frequenting  horse-races,  assemblies,  or 
other  unedifying,  if  not  vicious,  diversions,  defrauds  the  commu- 
nity of  a  benefactor,  and  bequeaths  them  a  nuisance. 

Some,  though  not  the  same,  preparation  for  a  sequel  of  their 
lives,  is  necessary  for  youth  of  every  description  :  and  therefore 
for  bastards,  as  well  as  for  children  of  better  expectations.  Con- 
sequently, they  who  leave  the  education  of  their  bastards  to 
chance,  contenting  themselves  with  making  provision  for  their 
subsistence,  desert  half  their  duty. 

III.  A  reasonable  provision  for  the  happiness  of  a  child,  in 
respect  of  outward  condition,  requires  three  things ;  a  situation 
suited  to  his  habits  and  reasonable  expectations ;  a  competent 
provision  for  the  exigencies  of  that  situation ;  and  a  probable 
security  for  his  virtue. 

The  two  first  articles  will  vary  with  the  condition  of  the  par- 
ent. A  situation  somewhat  approaching  in  rank  and  condition 
to  the  parent's  own  ;  or,  where  that  is  not  practicable,  similar  to 
what  other  parents  of  like  condition  provide  for  their  children, 
hounds  the  reasonable,  as  well  as  (generally  speaking)  the  actual 
expectations  of  the  child,  and  therefore  contains  the  extent  of  the 
parent's  obligation. 

Hence,  a  peasant  satisfies  his  duty,  who  sends  out  his  children 
properly  instructed  for  their  occupation,  to  husbandry,  or  to  any 

*  Amongst  the  Athenians,  if  the  parent  did  not  put  Lis  child  into  a  way  of 
getting  a  livelihood,  the  child  was  not  bound  to  make  provision  for  the  parent; 
when  old  and  necessitous. 


£95  DUTY  OF  PARENTS; 

branch  of  manufacture.  Clergymen,  lawyers,  physicians,  officers 
in  the  army  and  navy,  gentlemen  possessing  moderate  fortunes  of 
inheritance,  or  exercising  trade  in  a  forge  or  liberal  way,  are 
required  by  the  same  rule  to  provide  their  sons  with  learned  pro- 
fessions, commissions  in  the  army  or  navy,  places  in  public  offices, 
or  reputable  branches  of  merchandize.  Providing  a  child  with  a 
situation,  includes  a  competent  supply  for  the  expenses  of  that 
situation,  until  the  profits  of  it  enable  the  child  to  support  himself. 
Noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  high  rank  and  fortune,  may  be  bound 
to  transmit  an  inheritance  to  the  representatives  of  their  family, 
sufficient  for  their  support  without  the  aid  of  a  trade  or  profes- 
sion, to  which  there  is  little  hope  that  a  youth  who  h;is  been  flat- 
tered with  other  expectations,  will  apply  himself  with  diligence 
or  success.  In  these  parts  of  the  world,  public  opinion  has  as- 
sorted the  members  of  the  community  into  four  or  five  general 
classes,  each  class  comprising  a  great,  variety  of  employments 
and  professions,  the  choice  of  which  must  be  committed  to  the 
private  discretion  of  the  parent.*     All  that  can  be  expected  from 

*  The  health  and  virtue  of  a  child's  future  life,  are  considerations  so  supe- 
riour  to  all  others,  that  whatever  is  likely  to  have  the  smallest  influence  upon 
these,  deserves  the  parent's  first  attention.  In  respect  of  bealih,  agriculture, 
and  all  active,  rural,  and  out-of-door  employments,  are  to  be  preft-rred  to 
manufactures,  and  sedentary  occupations.  In  respect  of  virtue,  a  course  of 
dealings  in  which  the  advantage  is  mutual,  in  which  the  profit  on  one  side  is 
connected  with  the  benefit  of  the  other  (which  is  the  case  in  trade,  and  all 
serviceable  art  or  labour)  is  more  favourable  to  the  moral  character,  than 
callings  in  which  one  man's  gain,  is  another  man's  loss  ;  in  which  what  you 
acquire,  is  acquired  without  equivalent,  and  parted  with  in  distress ;  as  in 
gaming,  and  whatever  partakes  of  gaming,  and  in  the  predatory  profits  of 
war  The  following  distinctions  also  deserve  notice.  A  business,  like  a  retail 
trade,  in  which  the  profits  are  small  and  frequent,  and  accruing  from  the  em. 
ployment,  furnishes  a  moderate  and  constant  engagement  to  the  mind,  and  so 
far  suits  better  with  the  general  disposition  of  mankind,  than  professions 
which  are  supported  by  fixed  salaries,  as  stations  in  the  church,  army,  r.avy3 
revenue,  public  offices,  &c.  or  wherein  the  profits  are  made  in  large  sums, 
by  a  few  greit  concerns,  or  fortunate  adventures  :  as  in  many  branches  of 
wholesale  and  foreign  merchandize,  in  which  the  occupation  is  neither  so 
constant,  nor  the  activity  so  kept  alive  by  immediate  encouragement.  For 
security,  manual  arts  exceed  merchandize,  and  such  as  supply  the  wants  of 
mankind,  are  better  than  those  which  minister  to  their  pleasure.  Situations 
which  promise  an  early  settlement  in  marriage,  are  on  many  accounts  to  be 
"X  chosen  before  those,  which  require  a  longer  waiting  for  a  larger  establish- 
ment. 


DUTY  OP  PARENTS. 


197 


the  parents  as  a  duty,  and  therefore  the  only  rule  which  a 
moralist  can  deliver  upon  the  subject,  is,  that  they  endeavour  to 
preserve  their  children  in  the  class  in  which  they  are  born,  that 
is  to  say,  in  which  others  of  similar  expectations  are  accustomed 
to  be  placed  ;  and  that  they  be  careful  to  confine  their  hopes 
and  habits  of  indulgence  to  objects  which  will  continue  to  be 
attainable. 

It  is  an  ill-judged  thrift,  in  some  rich  parents,  to  bring  up  their 
sons  to  mean  employments,  for  the  sake  of  saving  the  charge  of  a 
more  expensive  education  :  for  these  sons,  when  they  become  mas- 
ters of  their  liberty  and  fortune,  will  hardly  continue  in  occupa- 
tions by  which  they  think  themselves  degraded,  and  are  seldom 
qualified  for  any  thing  better. 

An  attention,  in  the  first  place,  to  the  exigencies  of  the  chil- 
dren's respective  conditions  in  the  world;  and  a  regard,  in  the 
second  place,  to  their  reasonable  expectations,  always  postponing 
the  expectations  to  the  exigencies  when  both  cannot  be  satisfied, 
ought  to  guide  parents  in  the  disposal  of  their  fortunes  after  their 
death.  And  these  exigencies  and  expectations  must  be  measured 
hy  the  standard  which  custom  has  established;  for  there  is  a  cer- 
tain appearance,  attendance,  establishment,  and  mode  of  living, 
which  custom  has  annexed  to  the  several  ranks  and  orders  of 
civil  life  (and  which  compose  what  is  called  decency,)  together 
with  a  certain  society,  and  particular  pleasures  belonging  to  each 
class  :  and  a  young  person,  who  is  withheld  from  sharing  in  these 
for  want  of  fortune,  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  a  fair  chance 
for  happiness;  the  indignity  and  mortification  of  such  a  seclusion 
being  what  few  lempers  can  bear,  or  bear  with  contentment. 
And  as  to  the  second  consideration,  of  what  a  child  may  reasona- 
bly expect  from  his  parent,  he  will  expect  what  he  sees  all  or 
most  others  in  similar  circumstances  receive ;  and  we  can  hardly 
call  expectations  unreasonable,  which  it  is  impossible  to  sup- 
press. 

By  virtue  of  this  rule,  a  parent  is  justified  in  making  a  differ- 
ence between  his  children  according  as  they  stand  in  greater  or 
less  need  of  (he  assistance  of  his  fortune,  in  consequence  of  the 
difference  of  their  age  or  sex,  or  of  the  situations  in  which  they 
are  placed,  or  the  various  success  which  they  have  met  with. 

On  account  of  the  few  lucrative  employments  which  are  left  to 
the  female  sex,  and  by  consequence  the  little  opportunity  they 


igg  DUTY  0£  PARENTS. 

liave  of  adding  to  their  income,  daughters  ought  to  he  the  partic- 
ular objects  of  a  parents  care  and  foresight  ;  and  as  an  option 
of  marriage,  from  which  they  can  reasonably  expect  happiness, 
is  not  presented  to  every  woman  who  deserves  it,  especially  in 
times  in  which  a  licentious  celibacy  is  in  fashion  with  the  men,  a 
father  should  endeavour  to  enable  his  daughters  to  lead  a  single 
life  with  independency  and  decorum,  even  though  he  subtract 
more  for  that  purpose  from  the  portions  of  his  sons  than  is  agreea- 
hle  to  modern  usage,  or  than  they  expect. 

But  when  the  exigencies  of  their  several  situations  are  provided 
for,  and  not  before,  a  parent  ought  to  admit  the  second  considera- 
tion, the  satisfaction  of  his  children's  expectations;  and  upon 
that  principle  to  prefer  the  eldest  son  to  the  rest,  and  sons  to 
daughters:  which  constitutes  the  right,  and  the  whole  right,  of 
primogeniture,  as  well  as  the  only  reason  for  the  preference  of 
one  sex  to  the  other.  The  preference,  indeed,  of  the  first  born 
has  one  public  good  effect,  that  if  the  estate  were  divided  equally 
amongst  the  sons,  it  would  probably  make  them  all  idle;  whereas, 
by  the  present  rule  of  descent,  it  makes  only  one  so  ;  which  is 
the  less  evil  of  the  two.  And  it  must  farther  be  observed  on  the 
part  of  the  sons,  that  if  the  rest  of  the  community  make  it  a  rule 
to  prefer  sons  to  daughters,  an  individual  of  that  community 
ought  to  guide  himself  by  the  same  rule,  upon  principles  of  mere 
equality.  For,  as  the  son  suffers  by  the  rule,  in  the  fortune  he 
may  expect  in  marriage,  it  is  but  reasonable  that  he  should  re- 
ceive the  advantage  of  it  in  his  own  inheritance.  Indeed,  what- 
ever the  rule  be,  as  to  the  preference  of  one  sex  to  the  other, 
marriage  restores  the  equality.  And  as  money  is  generally  more 
convertible  to  profit,  and  more  likely  to  promote  industry,  in  the 
hands  of  men  than  of  women,  the  custom  of  this  country  may 
properly  be  complied  with,  when  it  does  not  interfere  with  the 
weightier  reason  explained  in  the  last  paragraph. 

The  point  of  the  children's  actual  expectations,  together  with 
the  expediency  of  subjecting  the  illicit  commerce  of  the  sexes  to 
every  discouragement  which  it  can  receive,  makes  the  difference 
between  the  claims  of  legitimate  children  and  of  bastards.  But 
neither  reason  will  in  any  case  justify  the  leaving  of  bastards  to 
the  world,  without  provision,  education,  or  profession  ;  or,  what 
is  more  cruel,  without  the  means  of  continuing  in  the  situation  to 
which  the  parent  has  introduced  them ;  which  last  is,  to  leave 
them  to  inevitable  misery. 


DTJTY  OF  PARENTS.  499 

After  the  6rst  requisite,  namely,  a  provision  for  the  exigencies 
of  his  situation,  is  satisfied,  a  parent  may  diminish  a  child's  por- 
tion, in  order  to  punish  any  flagrant  crime,  or  to  punish  contu- 
macy and  want  of  filial  duty  in  instances  not  otherwise  criminal : 
for  a  child  who  is  conscious  of  bad  behaviour,  or  of  contempt  of 
his  parent's  will  and  happiness,  cannot  reasonably  expect  the 
aame  instances  of  his  munificence. 

A  child's  vices  may  be  of  that  sort,  and  his  vicious  habits  so 
incorrigible,  as  to  afford  much  the  same  reason  for  believing  that 
he  will  waste  or  misemploy  the  fortune  put  into  his  power,  as  if 
he  were  mad  or  idiotish,  in  which  case  a  parent  may  treat  him  as 
a  madman  or  an  idiot ;  that  is,  may  deem  it  sufficient  to  provide 
for  his  support,  by  an  annuity  equal  to  his  wants  and  innocent 
enjoyments,  and  which  he  may  be  restrained  from  alienating. 
This  seems  to  be  the  only  case  in  which  a  disinherison,  nearly 
absolute,  is  justifiable. 

Let  not  a  father  hope  to  excuse  an  inofficious  disposition  of  his 
fortune,  by  alleging,  that  "  every  man  may  do  what  he  will  with 
his  own."  All  the  truth  which  this  expression  contains  is,  that 
his  discretion  is  under  no  controul  of  law;  and  that  his  will, 
however  capricious,  will  be  valid.  This  by  no  means  absolves 
his  conscience  from  the  obligations  of  a  parent,  or  imports  that 
he  may  neglect,  without  injustice,  the  several  wants  and  expecta- 
tions of  his  family,  in  order  to  gratify  a  whim  or  pique,  or  indulge  a 
preference  founded  in  no  reasonable  distinction  of  merit  or  situa- 
tion. Although  in  his  intercourse  with  his  family,  and  in  the 
lesser  endearments  of  domestic  life,  a  parent  may  not  always  re- 
sist his  partiality  to  a  favourite  child  (which,  however,  should 
be  both  avoided  and  concealed,  as  oftentimes  productive  of  lasting 
jealousies  and  discontents) ;  yet,  when  he  sits  down  to  make  his 
will,  these  tendernesses  must  give  place  to  more  manly  delibera- 
tions. 

A  father  of  a  family  is  bound  to  adjust  his  economy  with  a 
view  to  these  demands  upon  his  fortune;  and  until  a  sufficiency 
for  these  ends  is  acquired,  or  in  due  time  probably  will  be  acquir- 
ed, (for  in  human  affairs  probability  ought  to  content  us,)  frugal- 
ity and  exertions  of  industry  are  duties.  He  is  also  justified  in 
the  declining  expensive  liberality;  for  to  take  from  those  who 
want,  in  order  to  give  to  those  who  want,  adds  nothing  to  the 
stock  of  public  happiness.     Thus  far,  therefore,  and  no  farther. 


goo  DUTY  0F  parents; 

the  plea  of  "  children,"  of  "  large  families,"  "  charity  begins  at 
home,"  &c.  is  an  excuse  for  parsimony,  and  an  answer  to  those 
who  solicit  our  bounty.  Beyond  this  point,  as  the  use  of  riches 
becomes  less,  the  desire  of  laying  up  should  abate  proportionally. 
The  truth  is,  our  children  giiin  not  so  much  as  we  imagine,  in 
the  chance  of  this  world's  happiness,  or  even  of  its  external  pros- 
perity, by  setting  out  in  it  with  large  capitals.  Of  those  who 
have  died  rich,  a  great  part  began  with  little.  And,  in  respect 
of  enjoyment,  there  is  no  comparison  between  a  fortune,  which  a 
man  acquires  by  well-applied  industry,  or  by  a  series  of  successes 
in  his  business,  and  one  found  in  his  possession,  or  received  from 
another.  ^ 

A  principal  part  of  a  parent's  duty  is  still  behind,  viz.  the 
using  of  proper  precautions  and  expedients,  in  order  to  form  and 
preserve  his  children's  virtue. 

To  us,  who  believe  that  in  one  stage  or  other  of  our  existence 
virtue  will  conduct  to  happiness,  and  vice  terminate  in  misery ; 
and  who  observe  withal,  that  men's  virtue  and  vices  are,  to  a  cer- 
tain degree,  produced  or  affected  by  the  management  of  their 
youth,  and  the  situations  in  which  they  are  placed;  to  all  who 
attend  to  these  reasons,  the  obligation  to  consult  a  child's  virtue 
will  appear  to  differ  in  nothing  from -that  by  which  the  parent  is 
bound  to  provide  for  his  maintenance  or  fortune.  The  child's 
interest  is  concerned  in  the  one  means  of  happiness  as  well  as  in 
the  other;  and  both  means  are  equally,  and  almost  exclusively, 
in  the  parent's  power. 

For  this  purpose,  the  first  point  to  be  endeavoured  after  is,  to 
impress  upon  children  the  idea  of  accountableness,  that  is,  to  ac- 
custom them  to  look  forward  to  the  consequences  of  their  actions 
in  another  world ;  which  can  only  be  brought  about  by  the  par- 
ents visibly  acting  with  a  view  to  these  consequences  themselves. 
Parents,  to  do  them  justice,  are  seldom  sparing  in  lessons  of  virtue 
and  religion ;  in  admonitions  which  cost  little,  and  which  profit 
less;  whilst  their  example  exhibits  a  continual  contradiction  of 
•what  they  teach.  A  father,  for  instance,  will,  with  much  solem- 
nity and  apparent  earnestness,  warn  his  son  against  idleness, 
excess  in  drinking,  debauchery,  and  extravagance,  who  himself 
loiters  about  all  day  without  employment  ;  comes  home  every 
night  drunk ;  is  made  infamous  in  his  neighbourhood  by  some 
profligate  connexion ;  and  wastes  the  fortune  which  should  support, 


DUTY  OF  PARENTS.  gfl£ 

or  remain  a  provision  for  his  family,  in  riot,  or  luxury,  or  osten- 
tation. Or  he  will  discourse  gravely  before  his  children  of  the 
obligation  and  importance  of  revealed  religion,  whilst  they  see 
the  most  frivolous  and  oftentimes  feigned  excuses  detain  him  from 
its  reasonable  and  solemn  ordinances.  Or  he  will  set  before 
them,  perhaps,  the  supreme  and  tremendous  authority  of  Almighty 
God;  that  such  a  being  ought  not  to  be  named,  or  even  thought 
upon,  without  sentiments  of  profound  awe  and  generation.  This 
may  be  the  lecture  he  delivers  to  his  family  one  hour;  when 
the  next,  if  an  occasion  arise  to  excite  his  anger,  his  mirth,  or  his 
surpsise,  they  will  hear  him  treat  the  name  of  the  Deity  with  the 
most  irrevereut  profanation,  and  sport  with  the  terms  and  denun- 
ciations of  the  Christian  religion,  as  if  they  were  the  language  of 
some  ridiculous  and  long-exploded  superstition.  Now,  even  a 
child  is  not  to  be  imposed  upon  by  such  mockery.  He  sees 
through  the  grimace  of  this  counterfeited  concern  for  virtue.  He 
discovers  that  his  parent  is  acting  a  part;  and  receives  his  ad- 
monitions as  he  would  hear  the  same  maxims  from  the  mouth  of 
a  player.  Aud  when  once  this  opinion  has  taken  possession  of 
the  child's  mind,  it  has  a  fatal  effect  upon  the  pareut's  influence 
in  all  subjects  ;"  even  those,  in  which  he  himself  may  be  sincere 
and  convinced.  Whereas  a  silent,  but  observable,  regard  to  the 
duties  of  religion,  in  the  parent's  own  behaviour,  will  take  a  sure 
and  gradual  hold  of  the  child's  disposition,  much  beyond  formal 
reproofs  and  eludings,  which  being  generally  prompted  by  some 
present  provocation,  discover  more  of  anger  than  of  principle, 
aud  are  always  received  with  a  temporary  alienation  and  disgust. 
A  good  parent's  first  care  is  to  be  virtuous  himself;  his  second, 
to  make  his  virtues  as  easy  and  engaging  to  those  about  him  as 
their  nature  will  admit.  Virtue  itself  offends,  when  coupled  with 
forbidding  manners.  And  some  virtues  may  be  urged  to  such  ex- 
cess, or  brought  forward  so  unseasonably,  as  to  discourage  and 
repel  those  who  observe  and  who  are  acted  upon  by  them,  instead  of 
exciting  an  inclination  to  imitate  and  adopt  them.  Young  minds 
are  particularly  liable  to  these  unfortunate  impressions.  For 
instauce,  if  a  father's  economy  degenerate  into  a  minute  and  teas- 
ing parsimony,  it  is  odds  but  that  the  son,  who  has  suffered  under 
it,  set  out  a  sworn  enemy,  to  all  rules  of  order  and  frugality.  If 
a  father's  piety  be  morose,  rigourous,  and  tinged  with  melancholy, 
perpetually  breaking  in  upon  the  recreation  of  his  family,  and 
20 


202  UIGHTS  OF  PARENTS. 

surfeiting  them  with  the  language  of  religion  upon  all  occasions, 
there  is  danger  lest  the  sou  carry  from  home  with  him,  a 
settled  prejudice  against  seriousness  and  religion,  as  inconsistent 
with  every  plan  of  a  pleasureable  life;  and  turn  out  when  he 
mixes  with  the  world,  a  character  of  levity  or  dissoluteness. 

Something  likewise  may  be  done  towards  the  correcting  or 
improving  of  those  early  inclinations  which  children  discover,  by 
disposing  them  into  situations  the  least  dangerous  to  their  partic- 
ular characters.  Thus,  I  would  make  choice  of  a  retired  life, 
for  young  persons  addicted  to  licentious  pleasures  ;  of  private 
stations  for  the  proud  and  passionate;  of  liberal  professions,  and 
a  town  life,  for  the  mercenary  and  sottish  :  and  not,  according  to 
the  general  practice  of  parents,  send  dissolute  youths  iuto  the 
army ;  penurious  tempers  to  trade ;  or  make  a  crafty  lad  an 
attorney;  or  flatter  a  vain  aud  haughty  temper  with  elevated 
names,  on  situations,  or  callings,  to  which  the  fashion  of  the 
world  has  annexed  precedency  and  distinction,  but  in  which  his 
disposition  without  at  all  promoting  his  success,  will  serve  both 
to  multiply  and  exasperate  his  disappointments.  In  the  same 
way,  that  is,  with  a  view  to  the  particular  frame  and  tendency  of 
the  pupil's  character,  I  would  make  choice  of  a  public  or  private 
education.  The  reserved,  timid,  and  indolent,  will  have  their 
faculties  called  forth  and  their  nerves  invigourated,  by  a  public 
education.  Youths  of  strong  spirits  and  passions,  will  be  safer 
in  a  private  education.  At  our  public  schools,  as  far  as  I  have 
observed,  more  literature  is  acquired,  and  more  vice  ;  quick  parts 
are  cultivated,  slow  ones  are  neglected.  Under  private  tuition, 
a  moderate  proficiency  in  juvenile  learning  is  seldom  exceeded, 
hut  with  more  certainty  attained. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  RIGHTS  OF  PARENTS. 


THE  Rights  of  Parents  result  from  their  duties.  If  it  be  the 
duty  of  a  parent  to  educate  his  children,  to  form  them  for  a  life 
of  usefulness  and  virtue,  to  provide  for  them  situations  needful 
for  their  subsistence  and  suited  to  their  circumstances,  and  to 


RIGHTS  OF  PARENTS.  g03 

prepare  them  for  those  situations ;  he  has  a  right  to  such  au- 
thority, and  in  support  of  that  authority  to  exercise  such  disci- 
pline, as  may  be  necessary  for  these  purposes.  The  law  of 
nature  acknowledges  no  other  foundation  of  a  parent's  right  over 
his  children,  beside  his  duty  towards  them.  (I  speak  now  of 
such  rights  as  may  be  enforced  by  coercion.)  This  relation  con- 
fers no  property  in  their  persons,  or  natural  dominion  over  them, 
as  is  commonly  supposed. 

Since  it  is,  in  general,  necessary  to  determine  the  destination 
of  children,  before  they  are  capable  of  judging  of  their  own  hap- 
piness, parents  have  a  right  to  elect  professions  for  them. 

As  the  mother  herself  owes  obedience  to  the  father,  her  au- 
thority must  submit  to  his.  In  a  competition,  therefore,  of  com- 
mands, the  father  is  to  be  obeyed.  In  case  of  the  death  of  either, 
the  authority,  as  well  as  duty,  of  both  parents,  devolves  upon  the 
surviver. 

These  rights,  always  following  the  duty,  belong  likewise  to 
guardians  ;  and  so  much  of  them  as  is  delegated  by  the  parents 
or  guardians,  belongs  to  tutors,  school-masters,  &c. 

From  this  principle,  "  that  the  rights  of  parents  result  from 
their  duty,"  it  follows,  that  parents  have  no  natural  right  over 
the  lives  of  their  children,  as  was  absurdly  allowed  to  Roman 
fathers  ;  nor  any  to  exercise  unprofitable  severities  ;  nor  to  com- 
mand the  commission  of  crimes ;  for  these  rights  can  never  be 
wanted  for  the  purpose  of  a  parent's  duty. 

Nor  for  the  same  reason,  have  parents  any  right  to  sell  their 
children  into  slavery.  Upon  which,  by  the  way,  we  may  observe, 
that  the  children  of  slaves  are  not,  by  the  law  of  nature,  born 
slaves ;  for,  as  the  master's  right  is  derived  to  him  through  the 
parent,  it  can  never  be  greater  than  the  parent's  own. 

Hence  also  it  appears,  that  parents  not  only  pervert,  but  ex- 
ceed, their  just  authority,  when  they  consult  their  own  ambi- 
tion, interest,  or  prejudice,  at  the  manifest  expense  of  their  chil- 
dren's happiness.  Of  which  abuse  of  parental  power  the  follow- 
ing are  instances  ;  the  shutting  up  of  daughters  and  younger  sons 
in  nunneries  and  monasteries,  in  order  to  preserve  entire  the 
estate  and  dignity  of  the  family;  or  the  using  of  any  arts,  either 
of  kindness  or  unkindness,  to  induce  them  to  make  choice  of  this 
way  of  life  themselves  ;  or  in  countries  where  the  clergy  are  pro- 
hibited from  marriage,  putting  sons  into  the  church  for  the  sanu 


204  DlJTY  OP  CHILDREN. 

end,  who  are  never  likely  either  to  do  or  receive  any  good  in  it, 
sufficient  to  compensate  for  tins  sacrifice;  the  urging  of  children 
to  marriages  from  which  they  are  averse,  with  the  view  of  exalt- 
ing or  enriching  the  family,  or  for  the  sake  of  connecting  estates, 
parties,  or  interests  ;  or  the  opposing  of  a  marriage,  in  which 
the  child  would  probably  find  his  happiness,  from  a  motive  of 
pride  or  avarice,  of  family  hostility,  or  personal  pique. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  DUTY  OF  CHILDREN. 

THE  Duty  of  Children  may  be  considered, 

I.  During  childhood. 

II.  After  they  have  attained  to  manhood,  but  continue  in  their 
father's  family. 

III.  Afier  they  have  attained  to  manhood,  and  have  left  their 
fathers  family. 

I.  During  Childhood' 

Children  must  be  supposed  to  have  attained  to  some  degree  of 
discretion,  before  they  are  capable  of  any  duty.  There  is  an 
interval  of  eight  or  nine  years,  between  the  dawning  and  the 
maturity  of  reason,  in  which  it  is  necessary  to  subject  the  incli- 
nation of  children  to  many  restraints,  and  direct  their  application 
to  many  employments,  of  the  tendency  and  use  of  which  they 
cannot  judge;  for  which  cause  the  submission  of  children  during 
this  period,  must  be  ready  and  implicit,  with  an  exception, 
however,  of  any  manifest  crime  which  may  be  commanded  them. 

I I .  After  they  have  attained  to  manhood,  but  continue  in  their 
father'1  s  family. 

If  children,  when  they  are  grown  up,  voluntarily  continue  mem- 
bers of  their  father's  family, they  are  bound,  beside  the  general  duty 
of  gratitude  to  their  parents,  to  observe  such  regulations  of  the 
family,  as  the  father  shall  appoint  y.  contribute  their  labour  to 
its  support,  if  required  j  and  confine  themselves  to  such  expense? 


DUTY  OF  CHILDREN.  gQg 

as  he  shall  allow.  The  obligation  would  be  the  same,  if  they 
were  admitted  into  any  other  family,  or  received  support  from 
any  other  hand. 

III.  Jfter  they  have  attained  to  manhood,  and  have  left  their 
father's  family. 

In  this  state  of  the  relation,  the  duty  to  parents  is  simply  the 
duty  of  gratitude;  not  different,  in  kind,  from  that  which  we  owe 
to  any  other  benefactor;  in  degree,  just  so  much  exceeding  other 
obligations,  by  how  much  a  parent  has  been  a  greater  benefactor 
than  any  other  friend.  The  services  and  attentions,  by  which 
filial  gratitude  may  be  testified,  can  be  comprised  within  no 
enumeration.  It  will  show  itself  in  compliances  with  the  will  of 
the  parents,  however  contrary  to  the  child's  own  taste  or  judg- 
ment, provided  it  be  neither  criminal,  nor  totally  inconsistent 
with  his  happiness  ;  in  a  constant  endeavour  to  promote  their  en- 
joyments, prevent  their  wishes,  and  soften  their  anxieties,  in  small 
matters  as  well  as  in  great ;  in  assisting  them  in  their  business ; 
in  contributing  to  their  support,  ease,  or  better  accommodation, 
when  their  circumstances  require  it ;  in  affording  them  our  com- 
pany, in  preference  to  more  amusing  engagements;  in  waiting 
upon  their  sickness  or  deeripitude  ;  in  bearing  with  (he  infirmities 
of  their  health  or  temper,  with  the  peevishness  and  complaints, 
the  unfashionable,  negligent,  austere  manners,  and  offensive  habits, 
which  often  attend  upon  advanced  years  :  for  where  must  old  age 
find  indulgence,  if  it  do  not  meet  with  it  in  the  piety  and  partial- 
ity of  children  ? 

The  most  serious  contentions  between  parents  and  their  chil- 
dren, are  those  commonly  which  relate  to  marriage,  or  to  the 
choice  of  a  profession. 

A  pareut  has  in  no  case,  a  right  to  destroy  his  child's  happiness. 
If  it  be  true,  therefore,  that  there  exist  such  personal  and  exclu- 
sive attachments  between  individuals  of  different  sexes,  that  the 
possession  of  a  particular  man  or  woman  in  marriage,  be  really 
necessary  for  the  child's  happiness ;  or,  if  it  be  true,  that  an 
aversion  to  a  particular  profession  may  be  involuntary  and  un- 
conquerable; then  it  will  follow,  that  parents,  where  this  is  the 
case,  ought  not  to  urge  their  authority,  and  that  the  child  is  not 
hound  to  obey  it. 

The  point  is,  to  discover  how  far,  in  any  particular  instance. 


£06  DUTY  OF  CHILDREN. 

this  is  the  case.  Whether  the  fondness  of  lovers,  ever  continues 
with  such  intensity,  and  so  long,  that  the  success  of  their  desires 
constitutes,  or  the  disappointment  affects,  any  considerable  por- 
tion of  their  happiness,  compared  with  that  of  their  whole  life, 
it  is  difficult  to  determine  ;  but  there  can  be  no  difficulty  in  pro- 
nouncing, that  not  one  half  of  those  attachments,  which  young 
people  conceive  with  so  much  haste  and  passion,  are  of  this  sort. 
I  believe  it  also  to  be  true,  that  there  are  few  aversions  to  a  pro- 
fession which  resolution,  perseverance,  activity  in  going  about  the 
duty  of  it,  and,  above  all,  despair  of  changing,  will  not  subdue: 
yet  there  are  some  such.  Wherefore,  a  child  who  respects  his 
parents'  judgment,  and  is,  as  he  ought  to  be,  tender  of  their  hap- 
piness owes,  at  least,  so  much  deference  to  their  will,  as  to  try 
fairly  and  faithfully,  in  one  case,  whether  time  and  absence  will 
not  cool  an  affection,  which  they  disapprove  :  and,  in  the  other, 
whether  a  longer  continuance  in  the  profession  which  they  have 
ekosen  for  him,  may  not  reconcile  him  to  it.  The  whole  depends 
upon  the  experiment  being  made  on  the  child's  part  with  sincerity, 
and  not  merely  with  a  design  of  compassing  his  purpose  at  last, 
by  means  of  a  simulated  and  temporary  compliance.  It  is  the 
nature  of  love  and  hatred,  and  of  all  violent  affections,  to  delude 
the  mind  with  a  persuasion,  that  we  shall  always  continue  to  feel 
them,  as  we  feel  them  at  present:  we  cannot  conceive  that  they 
will  either  change  or  cease.  Experience  of  similar  or  greater 
changes  in  ourselves,  or  a  habit  of  giving  credit  to  what  our 
parents,  or  tutors,  or  books  teach  us,  may  control  this  persua- 
sion ;  otherwise  it  renders  youth  very  untractable ;  for  they  see 
clearly  and  truly,  that  it  is  impossible  they  should  be  happy  un- 
der the  circumstances  proposed  to  them,  in  their  present  state  of 
mind.  After  a  sincere  but  ineffectual  endeavour,  by  the  child, 
to  accommodate  his  inclination  to  his  parent's  pleasure,  he  ought 
not  to  suffer  in  his  parent's  affection,  or  in  his  fortunes.  The 
parent,  when  he  has  reasonable  proof  of  this,  should  acquiesce  : 
at  all  events,  the  child  is  then  at  liberty,  to  provide  for  his  own 
happiness. 

Parents  have  no  right  to  urge  their  children  upon  marriages  t» 
which  they  are  averse  ;  nor  ought,  in  any  shape,  to  resent  the 
children's  disobedience  to  such  commands.  This  is  a  different 
rase  from  opposing  a  match  of  inclination,  because  the   child's 


DUTY  OF  CHILDREN. 


207 


misery  is  a  much  more  probable  consequence ;  it  being  easier  to 
live  without  a  person  that  we  love,  than  with  one  whom  we  hate. 
Add  to  this,  that  compulsion  in  marriage  necessarily  leads  to  pre- 
varication ;  as  the  reluctant  party  promises  an  affection,  which 
neither  exists,  nor  is  expected  to  take  place ;  and  parental,  like  all 
human  authority,  ceases  at  the  point  where  obedience  becomes 
criminal. 

In  the  above-mentioned,  and  in  all  contests  between  parents 
and  children,  it  is  the  parent's  duty  to  represent  to  the  child  the 
consequences  of  his  conduct;  and  it  will  be  fouud  his  best  policy 
to  represent  them  with  fidelity.  It  is  usual  for  parents  to  exagger- 
ate these  descriptions  beyond  probability,  and  by  exaggeration  to 
lose  all  credit  with  their  children;  thus,  in  a  great  measure,  de- 
feating their  own  end. 

Parents  are  forbidden  to  interfere,  where  a  trust  is  reposed  per- 
sonally in  the  son  ;  and  where,  consequently,  the  son  was  expected, 
and  by  virtue  of  that  expectation  is  obliged,  to  pursue  his  own 
judgment,  and  not  that  of  any  other:  as  is  the  case  with  judi- 
cial magistrates  in  the  execution  of  their  office ;  with  members 
of  the  legislature  in  their  votes  ;  with  electors,  where  preference 
is  to  be  given  to  certain  prescribed  qualifications.  The  son  may 
assist  his  own  judgment  by  the  advice  of  his  father,  or  of  any  one 
whom  he  chooses  to  consult:  but  his  own  judgment,  whether  it  pro- 
ceed upon  knowledge  or  authority,  ought  finally  to  determine  his 
conduct. 

The  duty  of  children  to  their  parents  was  thought  worthy  to  be 
made  the  subject  of  one  of  the  Ten  Commandments  ;  and,  as  such, 
is  recognized  by  Christ,  together  with  the  rest  of  the  moral  pre- 
cepts of  the  Decalogue,  in  various  places  of  the  Gospel. 

The  same  Divine  Teacher's  sentiments,  concerning  the  relief  of 
indigent  parents,  appear  sufficiently  from  that  manly  and  de- 
served indignation,  with  which  he  reprehended  the  wretched 
casuistry  of  the  Jewish  expositors,  who,  under  the  name  of  a  tra- 
dition, had  contrived  a  method  of  evading  this  duty,  by  converting, 
or  pretending  to  convert,  to  the  treasury  of  the  temple,  so  much 
of  their  property  as  their  distressed  parent  might  be  entitled  by 
their  law  to  demand. 

Agreeably  to  this  law  of  Nature  and  Christianity,  children  are, 
by  the  law  of  England,  bound  to  support,  as  well   their  imme- 


s)Qg  DUTY  OF  CHILDREN-. 

diate  parents,  as  their  grandfather  and  grandmother,  or  remote 
ancestors,  who  stand  in  need  of  support. 

Obedience  to  parents  is  enjoined  by  St.  Paul  to  the  Ephesians : 
"  Children,  obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord,  for  this  is  right;"  and 
to  the  Colossians :  "  Children,  obey  your  parents  in  all  things, 
for  this  is  well  pleasing  unto  the  Lord."* 

By  the  Jewish  law,  disobedience  to  parents  was  in  some  ex- 


•  V 


trenie  cases  capital.     Deut.  xxi.  18 

•  Upon  which  two  phrases,  "  this  is  right,"  and  "  for  this  is  well  pleasing 
unto  the  Lord,"  being  used  by  St  Paul  in  a  sense  perfectly  parallel,  we  may 
observe,  that  moral  rectitude,  and  conformity  to  the  Divine  will,  were,  in  his 
apprehension,  the  same. 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


DUTIES  TO  OURSELVES. 


THIS  division  of  the  subject  is  retained  merely  for  the  sake  of 
method,  by  which  the  writer  and  the  reader  are  equally  assisted. 
To  the  subject  itself  it  imports  nothing  ;  for,  the  obligation  of  all 
duties  being  fundamentally  the  same,  it  matters  little  under  what 
class  or  title  any  of  them  are  considered.  In  strictness,  there  are 
few  duties  or  crimes  which  terminate  in  a  man's  self;  and  so  far 
as  others  are  affected  by  their  operation,  they  have  been  treated 
of  in  some  article  of  the  preceding  book.  We  have  reserved, 
however,  to  this  head  the  rights  of  self -defence  ;  also  the  consid- 
eration of  drunkenness  and  suicide,  as  offences  against  that  care 
of  our  faculties,  and  preservation  of  our  person,  which  we  account 
duties,  and  call  duties  to  ourselves. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  RIGHTS  OP  SELF-DEFENCE. 

IT  has  been  asserted,  that  in  a  state  of  nature  we  might  law- 
fully defend  the  most  insignificant  right,  provided  it  were  a  per- 
fect determinate  right,  by  any  extremities  which  the  obstinacy  of 
the  aggressor  rendered  necessary.  Of  this  I  doubt ;  because  I 
doubt  whether  the  general  rule  be  worth  sustaining  at  such  an 

%7 


210  RIGHTS  OF  SELF-DEFENCE. 

expense  ;  and  because,  apart  from  the  general  consequence  of  ^ 
yielding  to  the  attempt,  it  cannot  be  contended  to  be  for  the  aug-^ 
mentation  of  human  happiness,  that  one  man  should  lose  his  life,  / 
or  a  limb,  rather  than    another  a  pennyworth   of  his  property,  i 
Neverlheless,  perfeit  rights  can   only  be  distinguished   by  their   \ 
value  ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain  the  value  at   which  the    \ 
liberty  of  using  extreme  violence  begins.     The  person    attacked     * 
must  balance,  as  well  as  he  can,  between  the  general  consequence  J 
of  yielding,  and  the  particular  effect  of  resistance.  *,  ' 

However,  this  right,  if  it  exist  in  a  state  of  nature,  is  suspend-' 
ed  by  the  establishment  of  civil  society  ;  because  thereby  other 
remedies  are  provided  against  attacks  upon  our  property,  and  be- 
cause it  is  necessary  to  the  peace  and  safely  of  the  community, 
that  the  prevention,  punishment,  and  redress  of  injuries  be  ad- 
justed by  public  laws.  Moreover,  as  the  individual  is  assisted  in 
the  recovery  of  his  right,  or  of  a  compensation  for  bis  right,  by 
the  public  strength,  it  is  no  less,  equitable  than  expedient,  that  he 
should  submit  to  public  arbitration  the  kind,  as  well  as  the  meas- 
ure, of  the  satisfaction  whieh  he  is  to  obtain. 

There  is  one  case  in  which  all  extremities  are  justifiable  : 
namely,  when  our  life  is  assaulted,  and  it  becomes  necessary  for 
our  preservation  to  kill  the  assailant.  This  is  evident  in  a  state 
of  nature;  unless  it  can  be  shown,  that  we- are  bound  to  prefer 
the  aggressor's  life  to  our  own,  that  is  to  say,  to  love  our  enemy 
better  than  ourselves,  whieh  can  never  be  a  debt  of  justice,  nor 
any  where  appears  to  be  a  duty  of  charity.  Nor  is  the  case  al- 
tered by  our  living  in  civil  society  ;  because,  by  the  supposition, 
the  laws  of  Society  cannot  interpose  to  protect  us,  nor,  by  the  na- 
ture of  the  case,  compel  restitution.  This  liberty  is  restrained 
to  cases  in  which  no  other  probable  means  of  preserving  our  life 
remain,  as  flight,  calling  for  assistance,  disarming  the  adversary, 
&c  The  rule  holds,  whether  the  danger  proceed  from  a  volun- 
tary attack,  as  by  any  enemy,  robber,  or  assassin ;  or  from  an 
involuntary  one,  as  by  a  madman,  or  person  sinking  in  the  water, 
and  dragging  us  after  him  ;  or  where  two  persons  are  reduced  to 
a  situation  in  which  one  or  both  of  them  must  perish  ;  as  in  a 
shipwreck,  where  two  seize  upon  a  plank,  which  will  support 
only  one  :  although,  to  say  the  truth,  these  extreme  cases,  which 
happen  seldom,  and  hardly,  when  they  do  happen,  admit  of  moral 
agency,  are  scarcely  worth  mentioning,  much  less  discussing  at 
length. 


DRUNKENNESS.  ±H 

The  instance  which  approaches  (he  nearest  to  the  preservation 
of  lite,  am!  which  seems  to  justify  tlie  same  extremities,  is  the 
defence  of  chastity. 

In  all  other  cases,  it  appears  to  me  the  safest  to  consider  the 
taking  away  of  life  as  authorized  by  the  law  of  the  land ;  and 
the  norsou  who  takes  it  away,  as  in  the  situation  of  a  minister  or 
executioner  of  the  law. 

In  which  view,  homicide,  in  England,  is  justifiable, 

1.  To  prevent  the  commission  of  a  crime,  which,  when  com- 
mitted, would  be  punishable  with  death.  Thus,  it  is  lawful  to 
shoot  a  highwayman,  or  one  attempting  to  break  into  a  house  by 
night  ;  but  not  so  if  the  attempt  be  made  in  the  day  time  :  which 
particular  distinction,  by  a  consent  of  legislation  that  is  remark- 
able, obtained  alno  in  the  Jewish  law,  as  well  as  in  the  laws  both 
of  Greece  and  Hume. 

2.  In  necessary  endeavours  J,o  carry  the  law  into  execution, 
as  in  suppressing  riots,  apprehending  malefactors,  preventing 
escapes,  &c. 

I  do  not  know  that  the  law  holds  forth  its  authority  to  any 
cases  besides  those  which  fall  within  one  or  other  of  the  above 
descriptions;  or  that,  after  the  exception  of  immediaie  danger  to 
life  or  chastity,  the  destruction  of  a  human  being  can  be  innocent 
without  that  authority. 

The  rights  of  war  are  not  here  taken  iuto  the  account. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DRUNKENNESS. 

DRUNKENNESS  is  either  actual  or  habitual ;  just  as  it  is 
one  thing  to  be  drunk,  and  another  to  be  a  drunkard.  What  we 
shall  deliver  upon  the  subject  must  principally  be  understood  of 
a  habit  of  intemperance;  although  part  of  the  guilt  and  danger 
described  may  be  applicable  to  casual  excesses  ;  and  all  of  it,  in 
a  certain  degree,  forasmuch  as  every  habit  is  only  a  repetition  of 
single  instances. 


%[%  DRUNKENNESS. 

The  mischief  of  drunkenness,  from  which  we  are  to  compute 
the  guilt  of  it,  consists  in  the  following  bad  effects : 

1.  It  betrays  most  constitutions  either  to  extravagances  of  anger, 
or  sins  of  lewdness. 

2.  It  disqualifies  men  for  the  duties  of  their  station,  both  by  the 
temporary  disorder  of  their  faculties,  and  at  length  by  a  constant 
incapacity  and  stupefaction. 

3.  It  is  attended  with  expenses,  which  can  often  be  ill  spared. 

4.  It  is  sure  to  occasion  uneasiness  to  the  family  of  the 
drunkard. 

5.  It  shortens  life. 

To  these  consequences  of  drunkenness  must  be  added  the  pecu- 
liar danger  and  mischief  of  the  example.  Drunkenness  is  a  so- 
cial festive  vice;  ap«,  beyond  any  vice  that  can  be  mentioned,  to 
draw  in  others  by  the  example.  The  drinker  collects  his  circle;  the 
circle  naturally  spreads  ;  of  those  who  are  drawn  within  it,  many 
become  the  corrupters  and  centres  of  sets  and  circles  of  their  own; 
every  one  countenancing,  and  perhaps  emulating  the  rest,  till  a 
whole  neighbourhood  be  infected  from  the  contagion  of  a  single 
example.  This  account  is  confirmed  by  what  we  often  observe 
of  drunkenness,  that  it  is  a  local  vice;  found  to  prevail  in  certain 
countries,  in  certain  districts  of  a  country,  or  in  particular  towns, 
without  any  reason  to  be  given  for  the  fashion,  but  that  it  had 
been  introduced  by  some  popular  examples.  With  this  observa- 
tion upon  the  spreading  quality  of  drunkenness,  let  us  conneet  a 
remark  which  belongs  to  the  several  evil  effects  above  recited. 
The  consequences  of  a  vice,  like  the  symptoms  of  a  disease, 
though  they  be  all  enumerated  in  the  description,  seldom  all  meet 
in  the  same  subject.  In  the  instance  under  consideration,  the  age 
and  temperature  of  one  drunkard  may  have  little  Vo  fear  from  in- 
flammations of  lust  or  anger;  the  fortune  of  a  second  may  not  be 
injured  by  the  expense ;  a  third  may  have  no  family  to  be  dis- 
quieted by  his  irregularities  ;  and  a  fourth  may  possess  a  constitu- 
tion fortified  against  the  poison  of  strong  liquors.  But  if,  as  we 
always  ought  to  do,  we  comprehend  within  the  consequences  of 
our  conduct  the  mischief  and  tendency  of  the  example,  the  above 
circumstances,  however  fortunate  for  the  individual,  will  be  found 
to  vary  the  guilt  of  his  intemperance  less,  probably,  than  he  sup- 
poses. The  moralist  may  expostulate  with  him  thus:  Although 
the  waste  of  time  and  money  be  of  small  importance  to  you,  it 


DRUNKENNESS.  g£3 

may  be  of  the  utmost  to  some  one  or  other  whom  your  society  cor- 
rupts. Repeated  or  long  continued  excesses,  which  hurt  not  your 
health,  may  be  fatal  to  your  companion.  Although  you  have 
neither  wife,  nor  child,  nor  parent,  to  lament  your  absence  from 
home,  or  expect  your  return  to  it  with  terror;  other  families,  in 
which  husbands  and  fathers  have  been  invited  to  share  in  your 
ebriety,  or  encouraged  to  imitate  it,  may  justly  lay  their  misery  or 
ruin  at  your  door.  This  will  hold  good,  whether  the  person 
seduced  be  seduced  immediately  by  you,  or  the  vice  be  propagated 
from  you  to  him  through  several  intermediate  examples.  All 
these  considerations  it  is  necessary  to  assemble,  to  judge  truly  of 
a  vice,  which  usually  meets  with  milder  names  and  more  indul- 
gence than  it  deserves. 

I  omit  those  outrages  upon  one  another,  and  upon  the  peace  and 
safety  of  the  neighbourhood,  in  which  drunken  revels  often  end ; 
and  also  those  deleterious  and  maniacal  effects  which  stroug 
liquors  produce  upon  particular  constitutions  ;  because,  in  general 
propositions  concerning  drunkenness,  no  consequences  should  be 
included,  hut  what,  are  constant  enough  to  be  generally  expected. 
Drunkenness  is  repeatedly  forbidden  by  St.  Paul  :  "  Be  not 
drunk  with  wine,  wherein  is  excess.''  "  Let  us  walk  honestly  as 
in  the  day,  not  in  rioting  and  drunkenness."  "  Be  not  deceived : 
neither  fornicators,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners, 
shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God,"  Eph.  v.  IS.  Rom  xiii.  13. 
1  Cor.  vL  9',  10.  The  same  Apostle  likewise  condemns  drunken- 
ness, as  peculiarly  inconsistent  with  the  Christian  profession : 
"They  that  be  drunken,  are  drunken  in  the  night;  but  let  us, 
who  are  of  the  day,  be  sober."  1  Thes.  v.  7,  8.  We  are  not 
concerned  with  the  argument ;  the  words  amount  to  a  prohibition 
of  drunkenness  ;  and  the  authority  is  conclusive. 

It  is  a  question  of  some  importance,  how  far  drunkenness  is  an 
excuse  for  the  crimes  which  the  drunken  person  commits. 

In  the  solution  of  this  question,  we  will  first  suppose  the  drunken 
person  to  be  altogether  deprived  of  moral  agency,  that  is  to  say.  of 
all  reflection  and  foresight.  In  this  condition,  it  is  evident  that 
he  is  no  more  capable  of  guilt  than  a  madman ;  although,  like 
him,  he  may  be  extremely  mischievous.  The  only  guilt  with 
which  he  is  chargeable  was  incurred  at  the  time  when  he  volun- 
tarily brought  himself  into  this  situation.  And  as  every  man  is 
responsible  for  the  consequences  which  he  foresaw,  or  might  have 


g!4f  DRUNKENNESS. 

foreseen,  and  for  no  other,  this  guilt  will  be  in  proportion  to  the 
probability  of  such  consequences  ensuing.  From  which  principle 
results  the  following  rule,  viz.  that  the  guilt  of  any  action  in  a 
drunken  man  bears  the  same  proportion  to  the  guilt  of  the  like 
action  in  a  sober  man,  that  the  probability  of  its  being  the.  conse- 
quence of  drunkenness  bears  to  absolute  certainty.  By  virtue  of 
this  rule,  those  vices  which  are  the  known  effects  of  drunkenness, 
either  in  general,  or  upon  particular  constitutions,  are,  in  all,  or 
in  men  of  such  constitutions,  nearly  as  criminal  as  if  committed 
with  all  their  faculties  and  senses  about  them. 

If  the  privation  of  reason  be  only  partial,  the  guilt  will  be  of  a 
mixed  nature.  For  so  much  of  his  self  government  as  the  drunk- 
ard retains,  he  is  as  responsible  then  as  at  any  other  time.  He 
is  entitled  to  no  abatement  beyond  the  strict  proportion,  in  which 
his  moral  faculties  are  impaired.  Now  I  call  the  guilt  of  the 
crime,  if  a  sober  man  had  committed  it,  the  whole  guilt.  A  per- 
son in  the  condition  we  describe,  incurs  part  of  this  at  the  instant 
of  perpetration ;  and  by  bringing  himself  into  such  a  condition, 
lie  incurred  that  fraction  of  the  remaining  part,  which  the  danger 
of  this  consequence  was,  of  an  integral  certainty.  For  the  sake 
of  illustration,  we  are  at  liberty  to  suppose  that  a  man  loses  half 
his  moral  faculties  by  drunkenness  :  this  leaving  him  but  half 
his  responsibility,  he  incurs,  when  he  commits  the  action,  half 
of  the  whole  guilt.  We  will  also  suppose,  that  it  was  known  be- 
forehand, that  it  was  an  even  chance,  or  half  a  certainty,  that 
this  crime  would  follow  his  getting  drunk.  This  makes  him 
chargeable,  with  half  of  the  remainder;  so  that,  altogether,  he  is 
responsible  in  three  fourths  of  the  guilt,  which  a  sober  man  would 
have  incurred  by  the  same  action. 

I  do  not  mean  that  any  real  case  can  be  reduced  to  numbers,  or 
the  calculation  be  ever  made  with  arithmetical  precision  :  but 
these  are  the  principles,  and  this  the  rule,  by  which  our  general 
admeasurement  of  the  guilt  of  such  offences  should  be  regulated. 


The  appetite  for  intoxicating  liquors  appears  to  me  to  be  almost 
always  acquired.  One  proof  of  which -is,  that  it  is  apt  to  return 
only  at  particular  times  and  places  ;  as  after  dinner,  in  the  even, 
ing,  on  the  market  day,  at  the  market  town,  in  such  a  company. 


DRUNKENNESS.  g[g 

at  such  a  tavern.  And  tins  may  be  the  reason  that,  if  a  habit  of 
drunkenness  be  ever  overcome,  it  is  upon  some  change  of  place? 
situation,  company,  or  profession.  A  man  sunk  deep  in  a  habit 
of  drunkenness  will,  upon  such  occasions  as  these,  when  he  Suds 
himself  loosened  from  the  associations  which  held  him  fast, 
sometimes  make  a  plunge,  and  get  out.  In  a  matter  of  so  great 
importance,  it  is  well  worth  while,  where  it  is  in  any  degree 
practicable,  to  change  our  habitation  and  society,  for  the  sake  of 
the  experiment. 

Habits  of  drunkenness  commonly  take  their  rise  either  from  a 
fondness  for,  and  connexion  with,  some  company,  or  some  com- 
panion, already  addicted  to  this  practice  ;  which  affords  an  al- 
most irresistible  invitation,  to  take  a  share  in  the  indigencies 
which  those  about  us  are  enjoying  with  so  much  apparent  relish 
and  delight:  or  from  want  of  regular  employment,  which  is  sure 
to  let  in  many  superfluous  cravings  and  customs,  and  often  this 
amongst  the  rest:  or,  lastly,  from  grief,  or  fatigue,  both  which 
strongly  solieit  that  relief  which  inebriating  liquors  administer, 
and  also  furnish  a  specious  excuse,  for  complying  with  the  incli- 
nation. But  the  habit,  when  once  set  in,  is  continued  by  different 
motives  from  those  to  which  it  owes  its  origin.  Persons  addicted 
to  excessive  drinking  suffer,  in  the  intervals  of  sobriety,  and  near 
the  return  of  their  accustomed  indulgence,  a  faintuess  and  op- 
pression circa  prcecordia,  which  it  exceeds  the  ordinary  patience 
of  human  nature  to  endure.  This  is  usually  relieved  for  a  short 
time  by  a  repetition  of  the  same  excess;  and  to  this  relief,  as  to 
the  removal  of  every  long  continued  pain,  they  who  have  once 
experienced  it,  are  urged  almost  beyond  the  power  of  resistance. 
This  is  not  all:  as  the  liquor  loses  its  stimulus^  the  dose  must  be 
increased,  to  reach  the  same  pitch  of  elevation,  or  ease ;  which 
increase  proportionably  accelerates  the  progress  of  all  the  mala- 
dies that  drunkenness  brings  on.  Whoever  reflects  upon  the 
violence  of  the  craving  in  the  advanced  stages  of  the  habit,  and 
the  fatal  termination  to  which  the  gratification  of  it  leads,  will,  the 
moment  he  perceives  in  himself  the  first  symptoms  of  a  growing 
inclination  to  intemperance,  collect  his  resolution  to  this  point  : 
or  (what  perhaps  he  will  find  his  best  security)  arm  himself  with 
some  peremptory  rule,  as  to  the  times  and  quantity  of  his  indi- 
gencies. I  own  myself  a  friend  to  the  laying  down  of  rules  to 
ourselves  of  this  sort,  and  rigidly  abiding  by  them.     They  may 


2lQ  SUICIDE. 

be  exclaimed  against  as  stiff,  but  they  are  often  salutary.  Indeli- 
nite  resolutions  of  abstemiousness  are  apt  to  yield  to  extraordi- 
nary occasions  ;  and  extraordinary  occasions  to  occur  perpetu- 
ally. Whereas,  the  stricter  the  rule  is,  the  more  tenacious  we 
grow  of  it ;  and  many  a  man  will  abstain  rather  than  break  his 
rule,  who  would  not  easily  be  brought  to  exercise  the  same  mor- 
tification from  higher  motives.  Not  to  mention,  that  when  our 
rule  is  once  known,  we  are  provided  with  an  answer  to  every 
importunity. 

There  is  a  difference,  no  doubt,  between  convivial  intemper- 
ance, and  that  solitary  sottishness,  which  waits  neither  for 
company  nor  invitation.  But  the  one,  1  am  afraid,  commonly 
ends  in  the  other  :  and  this  last  is  the  basest  degradation  to  which 
the  faculties  and  dignity  of  human  nature  can  be  reduced. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SUICIDE. 

THERE  is  no  subject  in  morality  in  which  the  consideration 
of  general  consequences  is  more  necessary  than  in  this  of  suicide. 
Particular  and  extreme  cases  of  suicide  may  be  imagined,  aud 
may  arise,  of  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  assign  the  particular 
mischief.  oraronv  that  consideration  alone  to  demonstrate  the 
guilt;  and  these  cases  have  been  the  chief  occasion  of  confusion, 
and  doubtfulness  iu  the  question  :  albeit  this  is  no  more,  than  what 
is  sometimes  true  of  the  most  acknowledged  vices.  I  could  pro- 
pose many  possible  cases,  even  of  murder,  which,  if  they  were 
detached  from  the  general  rule,  and  governed  by  their  own  par- 
ticular consequences  alone,  it  would  be  no  easy  undertaking  to 
prove  criminal. 

The  true  question  in  the  argument  is  no  other  than  this; 
May  every  man  who  chooses  to  destroy  his  life,  innocently  do  so  ? 
Limit  and  distinguish  the  subject  as  you  can,  it  will  come  at  last 
to  this  question. 

For,  shall  we  say  that  we  are  then  at  liberty  to  commit  suicide, 
when  we  find  our  continuance  in  life  becomes  useless  to  mankind  ? 


SUICIDE.  «Jjy 

Any  one  who  pleases  may  make  himself  useless ;  and  melancholy 
minds  are  prone  to  think  themselves  useless,  when  they  really  are 
not  so.  Suppose  a  law  were  promulgated,  allowing  each  private 
person  to  destroy  every  man  he  met,  whose  longer  continuance  in 
the  world  he  judged  to  be  useless;  who  would  not  condemn  the 
latitude  of  such  a  rule  ?  Who  does  not  perceive  that  it  amounts 
to  a  permission  to  commit  murder  at  pleasure  ?  A  similar  rule," 
regulating  the  rights  over  our  own  lives,  would  be  capable  of  the 
same  extension.  Beside  which,  no  one  is  useless  for  the  purpose 
ef  this  plea,  but  he  who  has  lost  every  capacity  and  opportunity 
of  being  useful,  together  with  the  possibility  of  recovering  any 
degree  of  either ;  which  is  a  state  ef  such  complete  destitution 
and  despair,  as  cannot,  1  believe,  be  predicted  of  any  man  living. 

Or  rather,  shall  we  say  that  to  depart  voluntarily  out  of  life, 
is  lawful  for  those  alone,  who  leave  none  to  lament  their  death  ? 
If  this  consideration  is  to  be  taken  into  the  account  at  all,  the 
subject  of  debate  will  be,  not  whether  there  are  any  to  sorrow  for     ,  n 

us,  but  whether  their  sorrow  for  our  death,  will  exceed  that^vt-dTt^m 
which  we  should  suffer  by  continuing  to  live.  Now  this  is  a 
comparison  of  things  so  indeterminate  in  their  nature,  capable  of 
so  different  a  judgment,  and  concerning  which  the  judgment  will 
differ  so  much,  according  to  the  state  of  the  spirits,  or  the  pres- 
sure of  any  present  anxiety,  that  it.  would  vary  little,  in  hypo- 
chondriacal constitutions,  from  an  unqualified  licence  to  commit 
suicide,  whenever  the  distresses  which  men  felt,  or  fancied,  rose 
high  enough  to  overcome  the  pain  and  dread  of  death.  Men  are 
never  tempted  to  destroy  themselves,  hut  when  under  the  oppres- 
sion of  some  grievous  uneasiness :  the  restrictions  of  the  rule, 
therefore,  ought  to  apply  to  these  cases.  But  what  effect  can  we 
look  for  from  a  rule,  which  proposes  to  weigh  our  own  pain 
against  that  of  another;  the  misery  that  is  felt,  against  that 
which  is  only  conceived ;  and  in  so  corrupt  a  balance  as  the 
party's  own  distempered  imagination  ? 

In  like  manner,  whatever  other  rule  you  assign,  it  will  ulti- 
mately bring  us  to  an  indiscriminate  toleration  of  suicide,  in  all 
cases  in  which  there  is  danger  of  its  being  committed. 

It  remains,  therefore,  to  inquire  what  would  be  the  effect  of 
such  a  toleration  t  evidently,  the  loss  of  many  lives  to  the  com- 
munity, of  which  some  might  be  useful  or  important ;  the  afflic- 
tion of  many  families,  and  the  consternation  of  all ;  for  mankind 
28 


218  SUICIDE. 

must  live  in  continual  alarm  for  the  fate  of  their  friends  and 
dearest  relations,  when  the  restraints  of  religion  and  morality  are 
withdrawn ;  when  every  disgust,  which  is  powerful  enough  to 
tempt  men  to  suicide  shall  be  deemed  sufficient  to  justify  it ;  and 
when  the  follies  and  vices,  as  well  as  the  inevitable  calamities, 
of  human  life,  so  often  make  existence  a  burden. 

A  second  consideration,  and  perfectly  distinct  from  the  former, 
is  this :  by  continuing  in  the  world,  and  in  the  exercise  of  those 
virtues  which  remain  within  our  power,  we  retain  the  opportu- 
nity of  meliorating  our  condition  in  a  future  state.  This  argu- 
ment, it  is  true,  does  not  in  strictness  prove  suicide  to  be  a  crime  ; 
but  if  it  supply  a  motive  to  dissuade  us  from  committing  it,  it 
amounts  to  much  the  same  thing.  Now  there  is  no  condition  in 
human  life,  which  is  not  capable  of  some  virtue,  active  or  passive. 
Even  piety  and  resignation  under  the  sufferings  to  which  we  ara 
called  testify  a  truth  and  acquiescence  in  the  divine  counsels, 
more  acceptable,  perhaps,  than  the  most  prostrate  devotion  ;  afford 
an  edifying  example  to  all  who  observe  them  ;  and  may  hope  for 
a  recompense  among  the  most  arduous  of  human  virtues.  These 
qualities  are  always  in  the  power  of  the  miserable ;  indeed  of 
none  but  the  miserable. 

The  two  considerations  above  stated  belong  to  all  cases  of 
suicide  whatever.  Besides  which  generul  reasons,  each  case  will 
be  aggravated  by  its  own  proper  and  particular  consequences;  by 
the  duties  that  are  deserted;  by  the  claims  that  are  defrauded; 
by  the  loss,  affliction,  or  disgrace  which  our  death,  or  the  man- 
ner of  it,  causes  our  family,  kindred,  or  friends  ;  by  the  occasion 
we  give  to  many  to  suspect  the  sincerity  of  our  moral  and  relig- 
ious professions,  and,  together  with  ours,  those  of  all  others  ;  by 
the  reproach  we  draw  upon  our  order,  calling,  or  sect ;  in  a  word 
by  a  great  variety  of  evil  consequences  attending  upon  peculiar 
situations,  with  some  or  other  of  which  every  actual  case  of 
suicide  is  chargeable. 

I  refrain  from  the  common  topics  of  "  deserting  T>ur  post,'* 
'<  throwing  up  our  trust,''  "  rushing  uncalled  into  the  presence  of 
our  Maker,"  with  some  others  of  the  same  sort,  not  because  they 
are  common  (for  that  rather  affords  a  presumption  in  their  favour,) 
but  because  I  do  not  perceive  in  them  much  argument  to  which 
an  answer  may  not  easily  be  given. 

Hitherto  we  have  pursued  npon  the  subject  the  light  of  nature 


suicide,  gig 

alone  j  taking  however  into  the  account,  the  expectation  of  a 
future  existence,  without  which  our  reasoning  upon  this,  as  indeed 
all  reasoning  upon  moral  questions,  is  vain.  We  proceed  to 
inquire,  wheiher  any  thing  is  to  be  met  with  in  scripture,  which 
may  add  to  (he  probability  of  the  conclusions  we  have  been  en- 
deavouring to  support.  And  here  I  acknowledge,  that  there  is 
to  be  found  neither  any  express  determination  of  the  question,  nor 
sufficient  evidence  to  prove  that  the  case  of  suicide,  was  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  law  which  prohibited  murder.  Any  infer- 
ence, therefore,  which  we  deduce  from  scripture,  can  be  sustained 
only  by  construction  and  implication  :  that  is  to  say,  although 
they,  who  were  authorized  to  instruct  mankind,  have  not  decided 
a  question,  which  never,  so  far  as  appears  to  us,  came  before 
them  ;  yet,  I  think,  they  have  left  enough  to  constitute  a  pre- 
sumption, how  they  would  have  decided  it,  had  it  been  proposed 
or  thought  of. 

What   occurs   to  this  purpose  is  contained  in  the  following 
observations  : 

1.  Human  life  is  spoken  of  as  a  term  assigned  or  prescribed  to 
ns  :  "  Let  us  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us"— - 
"I  have  finished  my  course.5' — "  That  1  may  finish  my  course 
with  joy." — "You  have  need  of  patience,  that  after  you  have 
done  the  will  of  God,  ye  might  receive  the  promises."  These 
expressions  appear  to  me  inconsistent  with  the  opinion,  that  we 
are  at  liberty  to  determine  the  duration  of  our  lives  for  ourselves. 
If  this  were  the  case,  with  what  propriety  could  life  be  called  a 
race  that  is  set  before  tis  ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  "  our 
course;"  that  is,  the  course  set  out  or  appointed  to  us?  The 
remaining  quotation  is  equally  strong — "  That,  after  ye  have 
done  the  will  o'f  God,  ye  might  receive  the  promises."  The  most 
natural  meaning  that  can  be  given  to  the  words,  "  after  ye  hare 
done  the  will  of  God,"  is,  after  ye  have  discharged  the  duties  of 
life  so  long  as  God  is  pleased  to  continue  you  in  it.  According 
to  which  interpretation,  the  Jfext  militates  strongly  against  sui- 
cide ;  and  they  who  reject  this  paraphrase,  will  please  to  propose 
a  better. 

2.  There  is  not  one  quality,  which  Christ  and  his  Apostles  incul- 
cate upon  their  followers  so  often,  or  so  earnestly,  as  that  of  pa- 
tience under  affliction.  Now  this  virtue  would  have  been  in  a  great 
measure  superseded,  and  the  exhortations  to  it  might  have  been 


220  SUICIDE. 

spared,  if  the  disciples  of  his  religion  had  been  at  liberty  to  quit 
the  world  as  soon  as  they  grew  weary  of  the  ill  usage  which  they 
received  in  it.  When  the  evils  of  life  pressed  sore,  they  were  to 
look  forward  to  a  "  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory ;"  they  were  to  receive  them  "  as  chastenings  of  the  Lord," 
as  intimations  of  his  care  and  love  :  by  these  and  the  like  reflec- 
tions they  were  to  support  and  improve  themselves  under  their 
sufferings  ;  but  not  a  hint  has  any  where  escaped  of  seeking 
relief  in  a  voluntary  death.  The  following  text  in  particular 
strongly  combats  all  impatience  of  distress,  of  which  the  greatest 
is  that  which  prompts  to  acts  of  suicide  : — "  Consider  him  that 
endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself,  lest  ye  be 
wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds.''  I  would  offer  my  comment 
upon  this  passage  in  these  two  queries :  first,  Whether  a  Chris- 
tian convert,  who  had  been  impelled  by  the  continuance  and  ur- 
gency of  his  sufferings  to  destroy  his  own  life,  would  not  have 
"been  thought  by  the  author  of  this  text  "  to  have  been  weary,"  to 
have  "fainted  in  his  mind,"  to  have  fallen  off  from  that  example 
which  is  here  proposed  to  the  medial  ion  of  Christians  in  distress  ? 
And  yet,  secondly,  Whether  such  an  act  would  not  have  been 
attended  with  all  the  circumstances  of  mitigation,  which  can  ex- 
cuse or  extenuate  suicide  at  this  day  ? 

3  The  conduct  of  the  Apostles,  and  of  the  Christians  of  the 
apostolic  age,  affords  no  obscure  iudication  of  their  sentiments 
upon  this  point.  They  lived,  we  are  sure,  in  a  confirmed  per- 
suasion of  the  existence,  as  well  as  of  the  happiness,  of  a  future 
state.  They  experienced  in  this  world,  every  extremity  of  ex- 
ternal injury  and  distress.  To  die,  was  gain.  The  change 
which  death  brought  with  it  was,  in  their  expectation,  infinitely 
heneficial.  Yet  it  never,  that  we  can  find,  entered  into  the  inten- 
tion of  one  of  them,  to  hasten  this  change  by  an  act  of  suicide;  from 
which  it  is  difficult  to  say,  what  motive  could  have  so  universally 
withheld  them,  except  an  apprehension  of  some  unlawfulness  in 
the  expedient. 

Having  stated  what  we  have  been  able  to  collect  in  opposition 
to  the  lawfulness  of  suicide,  by  way  of  direct  proof,  it  seems  un- 
necessary to  open  a  separate  controversy  with  all  the  arguments 
which  are  made  use  of,  to  defend  it ;  which  would  only  lead  us 
into  a  repetition  of  what  has  been  offered  already.  The  follow- 
ing argument,  however;  being  somewhat  more  artificial  and  im> 


SUICIDE.  %%l 

posing  (ban  tlie  rest,  as  well  as  distinct  from  the  general  consid- 
eration of  the  subject,  cannot  so  properly  be  passed  over.  If 
we  deny  to  the  individual  a  right  over  his  own  life,  it  seems  im- 
possible, it  is  *aid,  to  reconcile  with  the  law  of  nature  that  right 
which  the  state  claims  and  exercises  over  the  lives  of  its  subjects, 
when  it  ordains  or  inflicts  capital  punishments.  For  this  right, 
like  all  other  just  authority  in  the  state,  can  only  be  derived  from 
the  compact  and  virtual  consent  of  the  citizens  which  compose 
the  state  ;  and  it  seems  self-evident,  if  any  principle  in  morality 
he  so,  that  no  one,  by  his  consent,  can  transfer  to  another  a  right 
which  he  does  not  possess  himself.  It  will  be  equally  difficult  to 
account  for  the  power  of  the  state  to  commit  its  subjects  to  the 
dangers  of  war,  and  to  expose  their  lives  without  scruple  in  the 
field  of  battle;  especially  in  offensive  hostilities,  in  which  the 
privileges  of  self-defence  cannot  be  pleaded  with  any  appearance 
of  truth:  and  still  more  difficult  to  explain,  how  in  such,  or  ill 
any  circumstances,  prodigality  of  life  can  be  a  virtue,  it  the  pre- 
servation of  it  be  a  duly  of  our  nature. 

This  whole  reasoning  sets  out  from  one  errour,  namely,  that 
the  state  acquires  its  right  over  the  life  of  the  subject  from  the 
subject's  own  consent,  as  a  part  of  what  originally  and  personally 
belonged  to  himself,  and  which  he  has  made  over  to  his  gover- 
nors. The  truth  is,  the  state  derives  this  right  neither  from  the 
consent  of  the  subject,  nor  through  the  medium  of  that  cousent; 
hut,  as  I  may  say,  immediately  from  the  donation  of  the  Deity, 
finding  that  such  a  power  in  the  sovereign  of  the  community  is 
expedient,  if  not  necessary,  for  the  community  itself,  it  is  justly 
presumed  to  be  the  will  of  God,  that  the  sovereign  should  possess 
and  exercise  it.  It  is  this  presumption  which  constitutes  the 
right ;  it  is  the  same  indeed  which  constitutes  every  other :  and 
if  there  were  the  like  reasons  to  authorize  the  presumption  in 
the  case  of  private  persons,  suicide  would  be  as  justifiable  as  war, 
or  capital  executions.  But,  until  it  can  be  shown  that  the  power 
over  human  life  may  be  converted  to  the  same  advantage  in  the 
hands  of  individuals  over  their  own, as  in  those  of  the  state  over  the 
lives  of  its  subjects,  and  that  it  may  be  entrusted  with  equal  safety 
to  both,  there  is  no  room  for  arguing,  from  the  existence  of  such 
a  right  in  the  latter,  to  the  toleration  of  it  in  the  former* 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

BOOK  V, 

DUTIES  TOWARDS  GOD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DIVISION  OF  THESE  DUTIES. 

IN  one  sense,  every  duty  is  a  duty  towards  God,  since  it  is  his 
will  which  makes  it  a  duty  :  but  there  are  some  duties  of  which 
God  is  the  object,  as  well  as  the  author ;  and  these  are  peculiarly, 
and  in  a  more  appropriated  sense,  called  duties  toivards  God, 

That  silent  piety,  which  consists  in  a  habit  of  tracing  out  the 
Creator's  wisdom  and  goodness  in  the  objects  around  us,  or  in  the 
history  of  his  dispensations ;  of  referring  the  blessings  we  enjoy 
to  his  bounty,  and  of  resorting  in  our  distresses  to  his  succour : 
may  possibly  be  more  acceptable  to  the  Deity  than  any  visible 
expressions  of  devotion  whatever.  Yet  these  latter  (which 
although  they  may  be  expelled,  are  not  superseded  by  the  former) 
compose  the  only  part  of  the  subject  which  admits  of  direction  or 
disquisition  from  a  moralist. 

Our  duty  towards  God,  so  far  as  it  is  external,  is  divided  into 
worship  and  reverence.  God  is  the  immediate  object  of  both ;  and 
the  difference  between  them  is,  that  the  one  consists  in  action, 
the  other  in  forbearance.  When  we  go  to  church  on  the  Lord's 
day,  led  thither  by  a  sense  of  duty  towards  God,  we  perform  an 
act  of  worship ;  when,  from  the  same  motive,  we  rest  in  a  journey 
upon  that  day,  we  discharge  a  duty  of  reverence. 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OP  PRAYER. 


Divine  worship  is  made  up  of  adoration,  thanksgiving,  and 
prayer.  But,  as  what  we  have  to  offer  concerning  the  two  former 
may  he  observed  of  prayer,  we  shall  make  that  the  title  of  the 
following  chapters,  and  the  direct  subject  of  our  consideration. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OP  THE  DUTY  AND  OF  THE  EFFICACY  OF    PRAYER,  SO  FAR  AS 
THE  SAME  APPEAR  FROM  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

WHEN  one  man  desires  to  ohtain  any  thing  of  another,  he  he- 
takes  himself  to  entreaty  :  and  this  may  be  observed  of  mankind, 
in  all  ages  and  countries  of  the  world.  Now  what  is  universal, 
may  be  called  natural;  and  it  seems  probable  that  God,  as  our 
supreme  governor,  should  expect  that  towards  himself,  which,  by 
a  natural  impulse,  or  by  the  irresistible  order  of  our  constitution, 
lie  has  prompted  us  to  pay  to  every  other  being  on  whom  we  de- 
pend. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  thanksgiving. 

Prayer  likewise  is  necessary  to  keep  up  in  the  minds  of  man- 
kind a  sense  of  God's  agency  in  the  universe,  and  of  their  own 
dependency  upon  him. 

Yet,  after  all,  the  duty  of  prayer  depends  upon  its  efficacy ; 
for  I  confess  myself  unable  to  conceive,  how  any  man  can  pray3 
or  be  obliged  to  pray,  who  expects  nothing  from  his  prayers ;  but 
who  is  persuaded,  at  the  time  he  utters  his  request,  that  it  cannot 
possibly  produce  the  smallest  impression  upon  the  being  to  whom 
it  is  addressed,  or  advantage  to  himself.  Now  the  efficacy  of 
prayer  imports  that  we  obtain  something  in  consequence  of  pray- 
ing, which  we  should  not  have  received  without  prayer ;  against 
all  expectation  of  which,  the  following  objection  has  been  often 
and  seriously  alleged : — "  If  it  be  most  agreeable  to  perfect  wis- 
dom and  justice  that  we  should  receive  what  we  desire,  God,  as 
perfectly  wise  and  just,  will  give  it  to  us  without  asking;  if  it  be 
not  agreeable  to  these  attributes  of  his  nature,  our  entreaties 
cannot  move  him  to  give  it  us,  and  it  were  impious  to  expect  that 
they  should."    In  fewer  words,  thus  :  "  If  what  we  request  be  fit 


$S4i  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER. 

for  us,  we  shall  have  it  without  praying ;  if  it  be  not  fit  for  us, 
we  cannot  obtain  it  by  praying."  This  objection  admits  but  of 
one  answer,  namely,  that  it  may  be  agreeable  to  perfect  wisdom 
to  grant  that  to  our  prayers,  which  it  would  not  have  been  agreea- 
ble to  the  same  wisdom  to  have  given  us  without  praying  for. 
But  what  virtue,  you  will  ask,  is  there  in  prayer,  which  should 
make  a  favour  consistent  with  wisdom,  which  would  not  have 
been  so  without  it?  To  this  questiou,  which  contains  the  whole 
difficulty  attending  the  subject,  the  following  possibilities  are 
offered  in  reply : 

1.  A  favour  granted  to  prayer  may  be  more  apt,  ou  that  very 
account,  to  produce  good  effects  upon  the  person  obliged.  It  may 
hold  in  the  divine  bounty,  what  experience  has  raised  into  a 
proverb  in  the  collation  of  human  benefits,  that  what  is  obtained 
without  asking,  is  oftentimes  received  without  gratitude. 

2.  It  may  be  consistent  with  the  wisdom  of  the  Deity  to  with- 
hold his  favours  till  they  be  asked  for,  as  an  expedient  to  encour- 
age devotion  in  his  rational  creation,  in  order  thereby  to  keep 
up  and  circulate  a  knowledge  and  sense  of  their  dependency  upon 
him. 

3.  Prayer  has  a  natural  tendency  to  amend  the  petitioner  him- 
self; and  thus  to  bring  him  within  the  rules  which  the  wisdom  of 
the  Deity  has  prescribed  to  the  dispensation  of  his  favours. 

If  these,  or  any  other  assignable  suppositions,  serve  to  remove 
the  apparent  repugnancy  between  the  success  of  prayer  and  the 
character  of  the  Deity,  it  is  enough ;  for  the  question  with  the 
petitioner  is  not  from  which,  out  of  many  motives,  God  may  grant 
his  petition,  or  in  what  particular  manner  he  is  moved  by  the 
supplications  of  his  creatures;  but  whether  it  be  consistent  with 
his  nature  to  be  moved  at  all,  and  whether  there  be  any  conceiva- 
ble motives  which  may  dispose  the  divine  will  to  grant  the  peti- 
tioner what  he  wants,  in  consequence  of  his  praying  for  it.  It  is 
sufficient  for  the  petitioner,  that  he  gain  his  end. .  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  devotion,  perhaps  not  very  consistent  with  it,  that  the 
circuit  of  causes,  by  which  his  prayers  prevail,  should  be  known 
to  the  petitioner,  much  less  that  they  should  be  present  to  his  im- 
agination at  the  time.  AH  that  is  necessary  is,  that  there  be  no 
impossibility  apprehended  in  the  matter. 

Thus  much  must  be  conceded  to  the  objection ;  that  prayer  can- 
not reasonably  be  offered  to  God  with  all  the  same  views,  with 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYEK.  g|J5 

which  we  oftentimes  address  our  entreaties  to  men,  (views  which 
are  not  commonly  or  easily  separated  from  it,)  viz.  to  inform 
them  of  our  wants  and  desires  ;  to  tease  them  out  by  importunity  ; 
to  work  upon  their  indolence  or  compassion,  in  order  to  persuade 
them  to  do  what  they  ought  to  have  done  before,  or  ought  not  to 
do  at  all. 

But  suppose  there  existed  a  prince,  who  was  known  by  his 
subjects  to  act,  of  his  own  accord,  always  and  invariably  for 
the  best;  the  situation  of  a  petitioner,  who  solicited  a  favour  or 
pardon  from  such  a  prince,  would  sufficiently  resemble  ours  :  and 
the  question  with  him,  as  with  us,  would  be,  whether,  the  char- 
acter of  the  prince  being  considered,  there  remaiued  any  ehance 
that  he  should  obtain  from  him  by  prayer,  what  he  would  not 
have  received  without  it.  I  do  not  conceive  that  the  character  of 
such  a  prince,  would  necessarily  exclude  the  effect  of  his  subjects' 
prayers ;  for,  when  that  prince  rejected,  that  the  earnestness  and 
humility  of  the  supplication  had  generated  in  the  suppliant  a 
frame  of  mind,  upon  which  the  pardon  or  favour  asked  would 
produce  a  permanent  and  active  sense  of  gratitude;  that  the 
granting  of  it  to  prayer  would  put  others  upon  praying  to  him, 
and  by  that  means  preserve  that  love  and  submission  of  his  sub- 
jects, upon  which  love  and  submission  their  own  happiness,  as 
well  as  his  glory  depended  ;  that,  beside  that  the  memory  of  the 
particular  kindness  would  be  heightened  and  prolonged  by  the 
anxiety  with  which  it  had  been  sued  for,  prayer  had  in  other 
respects  so  disposed  and  prepared  the  mind  of  the  petitioner,  as 
to  render  capable  of  future  services  him  who  before  was  unquali- 
fied for  any  :  might  not  that  prince,  I  say,  although  he  proceeded 
upon  no  other  considerations  than  the  strict  rectitude  and  expe- 
diency of  the  measure,  grant  a  favour  or  pardon  to  this  man, 
which  he  did  not  grant  to  another,  who  was  too  proud,  too  lazy, 
or  too  busy,  too  indifferent  whether  he  received  it  or  not,  or  too 
insensible  of  the  sovereign's  absolute  power  to  give  or  to  with- 
hold it,  ever  to  ask  for  it  ?  or  even  to  the  philosopher,  who,  from 
an  opinion  of  the  fruitlessness  of  all  addresses  to  a  prince  of  the 
character  which  he  had  formed  to  himself,  refused  in  his  own  exam- 
ple, and  discouraged  in  others,  all  outward  returns  of  gratitude, 
acknowledgments  of  duty,  or  application  to  the  sovereign's  mercy 
or  bounty;  the  disuse  of  which  (seeing  affections  do  not  long 
subsist  which  are  never  expressed)  was  followed  by  a  decay  of 


g2ft  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OP  PRAYER. 

loyalty  and  zeal  amongst  his  subjects,  and  threatened  to  end  in  a 
forgetfulness  of  his  rights,  and  a  contempt  of  his  authority  ? 
These,  together  with  other  assignable,  considerations,  and  some 
perhaps  inscrutable,  and  even  inconceivable  by  the  persons  upon 
whom  his  will  was  to  be  exercised,  might  pass  in  the  mind  of  the 
prince,  and  move  his  counsels ;  whilst  nothing  in  the  mean  time, 
dwelt  in  the  petitioner's  thoughts,  but  a  sense  of  his  own  grief 
and  wants  ;  of  the  power  and  goodness  from  which  alone  he  was 
to  look  for  relief;  and  of  his  obligation  to  endeavour,  by  future 
obedience,  to  render  that  person  propitious  to  his  happiness,  in 
whose  hands,  and  at  the  disposal  of  whose  mercy,  he  found  him- 
self to  be. 

The  objection  to  prayer  supposes,  that  a  perfectly  wise  being 
must  necessarily  be  inexorable :  but  where  is  the  proof,  that  in- 
exorability is  any  part  of  perfect  wisdom  ;  especially  of  that  wis- 
dom which  is  explained  to  consist  in  bringing  about  the  most 
beneficial  ends  by  the  wisest  means  ? 

The  objection  likewise  assumes  another  principle,  which  is 
attended  with  considerable  difficulty  and  obscurity,  namely,  that 
upon  every  occasion  there  is  one,  and  only  o?ie,  mode  of  acting^or 
the  best ;  and  that  the  divine  will  is  necessarily  determined  and 
confined  to  that  mode:  Loth  which  positions  presume  a  knowl- 
edge, of  universal  nature,  much  beyond  what  we  are  capable  of 
attaining.  Indeed,  when  we  apply  to  the  divine  nature  such  ex- 
pressions as  these,  "  God  must  always  do  what  is  right,''  '*  God 
cannot,  from  the  moral  perfection  and  necessity  of  his  nature,  act 
otherwise  than  for  the  best,''  we  ought  to  apply  them  with  much 
indeterminateness  and  reserve ;  or  rather,  we  onght  to  confess, 
that  there  is  something  in  the  subject  out  of  the  reach  of  our  ap- 
prehension ;  for,  in  our  apprehension,  to  be  under  a  necessity 
of  acting  according  to  any  rule,  is  inconsistent  with  free  agen- 
cy ;  and  it  makes  no  difference,  which  we  can  understand* 
whether  the  necessity  be  internal  or  external,  or  that  the  rule  is 
the  rule  of  perfect  rectitude. 

But  efficacy  is  ascribed  to  prayer  without  the  proof,  we  are 
told,  which  can  alone  in  such  a  subject  produce  conviction,  the 
confirmation  of  experience.  Concerning  the  appeal  to  experience, 
I  shall  content  myself  with  this  remark,  that  if  prayer  were  suf- 
fered to  disturb  the  order  of  second  causes  appointed  in  the  uni- 
verse too  much,  or  to  produce  its  effects  with  the  same  regularity 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER,         ggy 

that  they  do,  it  would  introduce  a  change  into  human  affairs, 
which  in  some  important  respects  would  be  evidently  for  the 
worse.  Who,  for  example,  would  labour,  if  his  necessities  could 
he  supplied  with  equal  certainty  by  prayer  ?  How  few  would 
contain  within  any  bounds  of  moderation,  those  passions  and 
pleasures,  which  at  present  are  checked  only  by  disease,  or  the 
dread  of  it,  if  prayer  would  infallibly  restore  health  ?  In  short, 
if  the  efficacy  of  prayer  were  so  constant  and  observable  as  to  be 
relied  upon  before-hand,  it  is  easy  to  foresee  that  the  conduct  of 
mankind  would,  in  proportion  to  that  reliance,  become  careless 
and  disorderly.  It  is  possible,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  our 
prayers  may,  in  many  instances  be  efficacious,  and  yet  our  expe- 
rience of  their  efficacy  be  dubious  and  obscure.  Therefore,  if 
the  light  of  nature  instruct  us  by  any  other  arguments  to  hope 
for  effect  from  prayer  ;  still  more,  if  the  scriptures  authorize  these 
hopes  by  promises  of  acceptance  ;  it  seems  not  a  sufficient  reason 
for  calling  in  question  the  reality  of  such  effects,  that  our  obser- 
vations of  them  are  ambiguous  :  especially  since  it  appears  pro* 
bable,  that  this  very  ambiguity  is  necessary  to  the  happiness  and 
safety  of  human  life. 

But  some,  whose  objections  do  net  exclude  all  prayer,  are  of- 
fended with  the  mode  of  prayer  in  use  amongst  us,  and  with  many 
of  the  subjects,  which  are  almost  universally  introduced  into  pub- 
lic worship,  and  recommended  to  private  devotiou.  To  pray  for 
particular  favours  by  name,  is  to  dictate  it  has  been  said,  to  di- 
vine wisdom  and  goodness :  to  intercede  for  others,  especially 
for  whole  nations  and  empires,  is  still  worse  ;  it  is  to  presume 
that  we  possess  such  an  interest  with  the  Deity,  as  to  be  able,  by 
our  applications,  to  bend  the  most  important  of  his  counsels  ;  and 
that  the  happiness  of  others,  and  even  the  prosperity  of  commu- 
nities, is  to  depend  upon  this  interest,  and  upon  our  choice.  Now, 
how  unequal  soever  our  knowledge  of  the  divine  economy  may  he 
to  the  solution  of  this  difficulty,  which  requires  perhaps  a  com- 
prehension of  the  entire  plan,  and  of  all  the  ends  of  God's  moral 
government,  to  explain  satisfactorily,  we  ean  understand  one 
thing  concerning  it,  that  it  is,  after  all,  nothing  more  than  the 
making  of  one  man  the  instrument  of  happiness  and  misery  to 
another;  which  is  perfectly  of  a  piece  with  the  course  and  order 
that  obtain,  and  which  we  must  believe  were  intended  to  obtain, 
in  human  affairs.     "Why  may  we  not  be  assisted  by  the  prayers 


ggg  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER. 

of  other  men,  who  are  beholden  for  our  support  to  their  labour  ? 
Why  may  not  our  happiness  be  made  in  some  eases  to  depend 
upon  the  intercession,  as  it  certainly  does  in  many  upon  the  good 
offices  of  our  neighbours  ?  The  happiness  and  misery  of  great 
numbers  we  see  oftentimes  at  the  disposal  of  oue  man's  choice,  or 
liable  to  be  much  affected  by  his  conduct :  what  greater  difficulty 
is  there  in  supposiug,  that  the  prayers  of  an  individual  may  avert 
a  calamity  from  multitudes,  or  be  accepted  to  the  benefit  of  whole 
communities  ? 


CHAPTER  III. 

OF  THE  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRATER,  AS   REPRESENTED 
IN  SCRIPTURE. 

THE  read#r  will  have  observed,  that  the  reflections  slated  in 
the  preceding  chapter,  whatever  truth  and  weight  they  may  be 
allowed  to  contain,  rise  many  of  them  no  higher  than  to  negative 
arguments  in  favour  of  the  propriety  of  addressing  prayer  to  God. 
To  prove  that  the  efficacy  of  prayers  is  not  inconsistent  with  the 
attributes  of  the  Deity,  does  not  prove  that  prayers  are  actually 
efficacious  ;  and  in  the  want  of  that  unequivocal  testimony,  which 
experience  alone  could  afford  to  this  point  (but  which  we  do  not 
possess,  and  have  seen  good  reason  why  we  are  not  to  expect,) 
the  light  of  nature  leaves  us  to  controverted  probabilities,  drawn 
from  the  impulse  by  which  mankind  have  been  almost  universally 
prompted  to  devotion,  and  from  some  beneficial  purposes,  which, 
it  is  conceived,  may  be  better  answered  by  the  audience  of  prayer 
than  by  any  other  mode  of  communicating  the  same  blessings. 
The  revelations  which  we  deem  authentic,  completely  supply  this 
defect  of  natural  religion.  They  require  prayer  to  God  as  a  duty  ; 
and  they  contain  positive  assurance  of  its  efficacy  and  accep- 
tance. We  could  have  no  reasonable  motive  for  the  exercise  of 
prayer,  without  believing  that  it  may  avail  to  the  relief  of  our 
wants.  This  belief  can  only  be  founded,  either  in  a  sensible  ex- 
perience of  the  effect  of  prayer,  or  in  promises  of  acceptance  sig- 
nified by  divine  authority.    Our  knowledge  would  have  come  to 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER.  399 

ns  in  the  former  way  less  capable,  indeed,  of  doubt,  but  subjected 
to  Ihe  abuses  and  inconveniences  briefly  described  above  :  in  the 
latter  way,  that  is,  by  authorizing  significations  of  God's  general 
disposition  to  hear  and  answer  the  devout  supplications  of  his 
creatures,  we  are  encouraged  to  pray,  but  not  to  place  such  a  de- 
pendence upon  prayer,  as  might  relax  other  obligations,  or  con- 
found the  order  of  events  and  of  human  expectations. 

The  scriptures  not  only  affirm  the  propriety  of  prayer  in  gen- 
eral, but  furnish  precepts  or  examples  which  justify  some  topics 
and  some  modes  of  prayer  that  have  been  thought  exceptionable. 
And  as  the  whole  subject  rests  so  much  upon  the  foundation  of 
scripture,  I  shall  put  down  at  length  texts  applicable  to  the  five 
following  heads:  to  the  duty  and  efficacy  of  prayer  in  general; 
of  prayer  for  particular  favours  by  name;  for  public  national 
blessings;  of  intercession  for  others;  of  the  repetition  of  unsuc- 
cessful prayers. 

1.  Texts  enjoining  prayer  in  general :  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be 
given  you  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find." — "If  ye,  being  evil,  know 
how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how  much  more  shall 
your  Father,  which  is  in  heaven,  give  good  things  to  them  that 
ask  him  $". — "  Watch  ye,  therefore,  and  -pray  always,  that  ye  may 
he  accounted  worthy  to  escape  all  those  things  that  shall  come  to 
pass,  and  to  stand  before  the  Son  of  Man." — "  Serving  the  Lord, 
rejoicing  in  hope,  patient  in  tribulation,  continuing  constant  in 
prayer." — "  Be  careful  for  nothing,  but  in  every  thing  by  prayer 
and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  let  your  requests  be  made 
known  unto  God.'' — "  I  will,  therefore,  that  men  pray  every  where, 
lifting  up  holy  hands  without  wrath  and  doubting."— «-"  Pray 
without  ceasing."  Matt.  vii.  7,  It.  Luke  xsi.  36.  Rom.  xii.  12. 
Phil.  iv.  6.  1  Thess.  v.  17.  1  Tim.  ii.  8.  Add  to  these,  that 
Christ's  reproof  of  the  ostentation  and  prolixity  of  pharisaical 
prayers,  and  his  recommendation  to  his  disciples  of  retirement 
and  simplicity  in  theirs,  together  with  his  dictating  a  particular 
form  of  prayer,  all  presuppose  prayer  to  be  an  acceptable  and 
availing  service. 

2.  Examples  of  prayer  for  particular  favours  by  name  :  "  For 
this  thing  (to  wit,  some  bodily  infirmity,  which  he  calls  '  in  a 
thorn  given  him  by  the  flesh')  I  besought  the  Lord  thrice  that  it 
might  depart  from  me." — "Night  and  day  praying  exceedingly. 


g30  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER. 

that  we  might  see  your  face,  and  perfect  that  which  is  lacking  in 
your  faith."     2  Cor.  xii.  8,  1.     Thess.  iii.  10. 

8.  Directions  to  pray  for  national  or  public  blessings :  "  Pray 
for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem." — "'Ask  ye  of  the  Lord  raiu,  in  the 
time  of  the  latter  rain ;  so  the  Lord  shall  make  bright  cluuds, 
and  give  them  showers  of  rain,  to  every  one  grass  in  the  field." — 
"  I  exhort,  therefore,  that  first  of  all,  supplications,  prayers,  in- 
tercessions, and  giving  of  thanks,  be  made  for  ail  men  ;  for 
kings,  and  for  all  that  are  in  authority,  that  we  may  lead  a  quiet 
and  peaceable  life,  in  all  godliness  and  honesty ;  for  this  is  good 
and  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God  our  Saviour."  Psalm  cxxii.  6. 
Zech.  x.  1.     1  Tim.  ii.  1,  2,  3. 

4.  Examples  of  intercession,  and  exhortations  to  intercede  for 
others  :  "  And  Moses  besought  the  Lord  his  God,  and  said,  Lord, 
why  doth  thy  wrath  wax  hot  against  thy  people?  Remember 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Israel,  thy  servants.  And  the  Lord  repent- 
ed of  the  evil  which  he  thought  to  do  unto  his  people." — "  Peter, 
therefore,  was  kept  in  prison,  but  prayer  was  made  without  ceas- 
ing of  the  church  unto  God  for  him." — "  For  God  is  my  witness, 
that  without  ceasing  I  make  mention  of  you  always  in  my  prayers." 
— "  Now  I  beseech  you,  brethren,  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ's  sake, 
and  for  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  that  ye  strive  together  with  me,  in 
your  prayers  for  me." — "  Confess  your  faults  one  to  another,  and 
pray  one  for  another,  that  ye  may  be  healed  :  the  effectual  fer- 
vent prayer  of  a  righteous  man  availeth  much.*'  Exod.  xxxii. 
11.     Acts  xii.  5.     Rom.  i.  9.    xv.  30.     James  v.  16. 

5.  Declarations  and  examples  authorizing  the  repetition  of 
unsuccessful  prayer  :  "  And  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them  to  this 
end,  that  men  ought  always  to  pray,  and  not  to  faint." — "  And 
he  left  them,  and  went  away  again,  and  prayed  the  third  time, 
saying  the  same  ivords." — "  For  this  thing  I  besought  the  Lord 
thrice,  that  it  might  depart  from  me."  Luke  xviii.  1.  Matt. 
xxvi.  44.     2  Cor.  xii.  8.* 

*  The  reformed  churches  of  Christendom,  sticking  close  in  this  article  to 
their  guide,  have  laid  aside  prayers  for  the  dead,  as  authorized  by  no  precept 
or  precedent  found  in  scripture.  For  the  same  reason  they  properly  reject  the 
invocation  of  saints :  as  also  because  such  invocations  suppose,  in  the  saints 
whom  they  address,  a  knowledge  which  can  perceive  what  passes  in  different 
regions  of  the  earth  at  the  same  time.  And  they  deem  it  too  much  to  take  for 
granted,  without  the  smallest  intimation  of  such  a  thing  in  scripture,  that  any 
created  being  possesses  a  faculty  little  short  of  that  omniscience  and  omni- 
presence which  they  ascribe  to  the  Deity. 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER.  ^dL 

CHAPTER  IV. 

OF  PRIVATE  PRAYER,  FAMILY  PRAYER,  AND  PUBLIC  WORSHIP. 

CONCERNING  these  three  descriptions  of  devotion,  it  is  first 
of  all  to  be  observed,  that  eaeh  has  its  separate  and  peculiar  use  ; 
and  therefore,  that  the  exercise  of  one  species  of  worship,  how- 
ever regular  it  be,  does  not  supersede,  or  dispense  with,  the  obli- 
gation of  either  of  the  other  two. 

I.  Private  Prayer  is  recommended  for  the  sake  of  the  following 
advantages : 

Private  wants  cannot  always  be  made  the  subject  of  public 
prayer;  but  whatever  reason  there  is  for  praying  at  all,  there  is 
the  same  for  making  the  sore  and  grief  of  each  man's  own  heart 
the  business  of  his  application  to  God.  This  must  be  the  office 
of  private  exercises  of  devotion,  being  imperfectly,  if  at  all, 
practicable  in  any  other. 

Private  prayer  is  generally  more  devout  and  earnest,  than  the 
share  we  are  capable  of  taking  in  joint  acts  of  worship  ;  beeause 
it  affords  leisure  and  opportunity  for  the  circumstantial  recollection 
of  those  personal  wants,  by  the  remembrance  and  ideas  of  which 
the  warmth  and  earnestness  of  prayer  are  chiefly  excited. 

Private  prayer,  in  proportion  as  it  is  usually  accompanied  with 
more  actual  thought  and  reflection  of  the  petitioner's  own,  has  a 
greater  tendency  than  other  modes  of  devotion  to  revive  and 
fasten  upon  the  mind,  the  general  impressions  of  religion.  Solitude 
powerfully  assists  this  effect.  When  a  man  finds  himself  alone 
in  communication  with  his  Creator,  his  imagination  becomes 
filled  with  a  conflux  of  awful  ideas  concerning  the  universal 
agency,  and  invisible  presence,  of  that  Being  ;  concerning  what 
is  likely  to  become  of  himself;  and  of  the  superlative  impor- 
tance of  providing  for  the  happiness  of  his  future  existence,  by 
endeavours  to  please  him,  who  is  the  arbiter  of  his  destiny :  re- 
flections, which,  whenever  they  gain  admittance,  for  a  season 
overwhelm  all  others  ;  and  leave  when  they  depart,  a  solemnity 
upon  the  thoughts  that  will  seldom  fail,  in  some  degree,  to  aflec" 
the  conduct  of  life. 


s>33  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER. 

Private  prayer,  (.bus  reeommended  by  its  own  propriety,  and 
advantages  not  attainable  in  any  form  of  religious  communion, 
receives  a  superiour  sanction  from  tbe  authority  aud  example  of 
Christ.  "  "When  thou  prayest  enter  into  thy  closet;  and  when 
thou  hast  shut  the  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  which  is  in  secret; 
and  thy  Father,  which  seeth  in  secret,  shall  reward  thee  openly. ,J 
— "  And  when  be  had  sent  the  multitudes  away,  he  went  up  into 
a  mountain  apart  to  pr&yl"     Matt.  vi.  6.     xiv.  23. 

II.  Family  Prayer. 

The  peculiar  use  of  family  piety  consists  in  its  influence  upon 
servants,  and  the  young  members  of  a  family,  who  want  sufficient 
seriousness  and  reflection  to  retire  of  their  own  accord  to  the  ex- 
ercise of  private  devotion,  and  whose  attention  you  caunot  easily 
command  in  public,  worship.  The  example  also  and  authority 
of  a  father  and  master  act  in  this  way  with  the  greatest  force  ; 
for  his  private  prayers,  to  which  bis  children  and  servants  are 
not  witnesses,  act  not  at  all  upon  them  as  examples  ;  and  bis  at- 
tendance upou  public  worship  they  will  readily  impute  to  fashion, 
to  a  care  to  preserve  appearances,  to  a  concern  for  decency  and 
character,  aud  to  many  motives  besides  a  sense  of  duty  to  God. 
Add  to  this,  that  forms  of  public  worship,  in  proportion  as  they 
are  more  comprehensive,  are  always  less  interesting  than  family 
prayers  ;  and  that  the  ardour  of  devotion  is  better  supported,  and 
the  sympathy  more  easily  propagated,  through  a  small  assenibly, 
connected  by  the  affections  of  domestic  society,  than  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  mixed  congregation. 

III.  Public  Worship. 

If  the  worship  of  God  be  a  duty  of  religion,  public  worship  is 
a  necessary  institution ;  forasmuch  as,  without  it,  the  greater 
part  of  mankind  would  exercise  no  religious  worship  at  all. 

These  assemblies  afford  also,  at  the  same  time,  opportunities  for 
moral  and  religious  instruction  to  those  who  otherwise  would  re- 
ceive none.  In  all  Protestant,  and  in  most  Christian  countries, 
the  elements  of  natural  religion,  and  the  important  parts  of  the 
evangelic  history,  are  familiar  to  the  lowest  of  the  people.  This 
competent  degree  and  general  diffusion  of  religious  knowledge 
amongst  all  orders  of  Christians,  which  will  appear  a  great 
thing  when  compared  with  tbe  intellectual  condition  of  barbarous 
nations,  can  fairly,  I  think,  be  ascribed  to  no  other  cause  than  the 
regular  establishment  of  assemblies  for  divine  worship ;  in  which 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER.  sjgg 

either  portions  of  scripture  are  recited  and  explained,  or  the 
principles  of  Christian  erudition  are  so  constantly  taught  in 
sermons,  incorporated  with  liturgies,  or  expressed  in  extempore 
prayer,  as  to  imprint,  by  the  very  repetition  some  kuowledge  and 
memory  of  these  subjects  upon  the  most  unqualified  and  careless 
hearer. 

The  two  reasons  above  stated  bind  all  the  members  of  a  coni« 
muiiity  to  uphold  public  worship  by  their  presence  and  example, 
although  the  helps  and  opportunities  which  it  affords  may  not  lie 
necessary  to  the  devotion  or  edifieation  of  all ;  and  to  some  may 
be  useless:  for  it  is  easily  foreseen,  how  soon  religious  assemblies 
would  fall  into  contempt  and  disuse,  if  that  class  of  mankind  who 
are  above  seeking  instruction  in  them,  and  want  not  that  their  own 
piety  should  be  assisted  by  either  forms  or  society  in  devotion, 
were  to  withdraw  their  attendance;  especially  when  it  is  con- 
sidered, that  all  who  please  are  at  liberty  to  rank  themselves  of 
this  class.  This  argument  meets  the  only  serious  apology  that 
can  be  made  for  the  absenting  of  ourselves  from  public  worship. 
"  Surely  (some  will  say)  I  may  be  excused  from  going  to  church, 
so  long  as  I  pray  at  home;  and  have  no  reason  to  doubt  but  that 
my  prayers  are  as  acceptable  and  efficacious  in  my  closet,  as  in  a 
cathedral :  still  less  can  1  thiuk  myself  obliged  to  sit  out  a  tedious 
sermon,  in  order  to  hear  what  is  known  already,  what  is  better 
learnt  from  books,  or  suggested  by  meditation."  They,  whose 
qualifications  and  habits  best  supply  to  themselves  all  the  effect 
of  public  ordinances,  will  be  the  last  to  prefer  this  exeuse,  when 
they  advert  to  the  general  consequence  of  setting  up  such  an  ex- 
emption, as  well  as  when  they  consider  the  turn  which  is  sure  to 
he  given  in  the  neighbourhood  to  their  absence  from  public  wor- 
ship. You  stay  from  church,  to  employ  the  sabbath  at  home  in 
exercises  and  studies  suited  to  its  proper  business :  your  next 
neighbour  stays  from  church,  to  spend  the  seventh  day  less  reli- 
giously than  he  passed  any  of  the  six,  in  a  sleepy,  stupid  rest,  or  at 
some  rendezvous  of  drunkenness  and  debauchery,  and  yet  thinks 
that  he  is  only  imitating  you,  because  you  both  agree  in  not  going  to 
church.  The  same  consideration  should  overrule  many  small 
scruples  concerning  the  rigorous  propriety  of  some  things,  which 
may  be  contained  in  the  forms,  or  admitted  into  the  administration 
of  the  public  worship  of  our  communion  ;  for  it  seems  impossible 
that  even  "  two  or  three  should  be  gathered  together"  in  any 
30 


S31  DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER. 

act  of  social  worship,  if  each  one  require  from  the  rest  an  implicit 
submission  to  his  objections,  and  if  no  man  will  attend  upon  a 
religious  service  which  in  any  point  contradicts  his  opinion  of 
truth,  or  falls  short  of  his  ideas  of  perfection. 

Beside  the  direct  necessity  of  public  worship  to  the  greater 
part  of  every  Christian  community  (supposing  worship  at  all  to 
be  a  Christian  duty,)  there  are  other  valuable  advantages  grow- 
ing out  of  the  use  of  religious  assemblies,  without  being  designed 
in  the  institution,  or  thought  of  by  the  individuals  who  compose 
them.   • 

1.  Joining  in  prayer  and  praises  to  their  common  Creator  and 
Governor,  has  a  sensible  tendency  to  unite  mankind  together,  and 
to  cherish  and  enlarge  the  generous  affections. 

So  many  pathetic  reflections  are  awakened  by  every  exercise 
of  social  devotion,  that  most  men,  I  believe,  carry  away  from 
public  worship  a  better  temper  towards  the  rest  of  mankind,  than 
they  brought  with  them.  Sprung  from  the  same  extraction,  pre- 
paring together  for  the  period  of  all  worldly  distinctions,  reminded 
of  their  mutual  infirmities  and  common  dependency,  imploring 
and  receiving  support  and  supplies  from  the  same  great  source  of 
power  and  bounty,  having  all  one  interest  to  secure,  one  Lord  to 
serve,  one  judgment,  the  supreme  object  to  all  of  their  hopes  and 
fears,  to  look  towards;  it  is  hardly  possible,  in  this  position,  to 
behold  mankind  as  strangers,  competitors,  or  enemies  ;  or  not  to 
regard  them  as  children  of  the  same  family,  assembled  before 
their  common  parent,  and  with  some  portion  of  the  tenderness 
which  belongs  to  the  most  endearing  of  our  domestic  relations. 
It  is  nut  to  be  expected,  that  any  single  effect  of  this  kind  should 
be  considerable  or  lasting  ;  but  the  frequent  return  of  such  senti- 
ments as  the  presence  of  a  devout  congregation  naturally  suggests, 
will  gradual!}  melt  down  the  ruggedness  of  many  unkind  passions, 
and  may  generate  in  time  a  permanent  and  productive  benevo- 
lence. 

2.  Assemblies  for  the  purpose  of  divine  worship,  placing  men 
under  impressions  by  which  they  are  taught  to  consider  their  re- 
lation to  the  Deity,  and  to  contemplate  those  around  them  with  a 
view  to  that  relation,  force  upon  their  thoughts  the  natural  equal- 
ity of  the  human  species,  and  thereby  promote  humility  and  con- 
descension in  the  highest  orders  of  the*  community,  and  inspire 
the  lowest  with  a  sense  of  their  rights.     The  distinctions  of  civi! 


DUTY  AND  EFFICACY  OF  PRAYER.  ^25 

life  are  almost  always  insisted  upon  too  much,  and  urged  too  far. 
Whatever,  therefore,  conduces  to  restore  the  level,  by  qualifying 
the  dispositions  which  grow  out  of  great  elevation  or  depression 
of  rank,  improves  the  character  on  both  sides.  Now  things  are 
made  to  appear  little,  by  being  placed  beside  what  is  great.  In 
which  maimer,  superiorities,  that  occupy  the  whole  field  of  the 
imagination,  will  vanish  or  shrink  to  their  proper  diminutive^ 
ness,  when  compared  with  the  distance  by  which  even  the  highest 
of  men  are  removed  from  the  Supreme  Being,  and  this  comparison 
is  naturally  introduced  by  all  acts  of  joint  worship.  If  ever  the 
poor  man  holds  up  his  head,  it  is  at  church  :  if  ever  the  rich 
man  views  him  with  respect,  it  is  there:  and  both  will  be  the 
better,  and  the  public  profited,  the  oftener  they  meet  in  a  situation, 
in  which  the  consciousness  of  dignity  in  the  one  is  tempered  and 
mitigated,  and  the  spirit  of  the  other  erected  and  confirmed.  We 
recommend  nothing  adverse  to  subordinations  which  are  estab- 
lished and  necessary;  but  then  it  should  be  remembered,  that 
subordination  itself  is  an  evil,  being  an  evil  to  the  subordinate 
who  are  the  majority,  and  therefore  ought  not  to  be  carried  a  tittle 
beyond  what  the  greater  good,  the  peaoeable  government  of  the 
community,  requires. 

The  public  worship  of  Christians  is  a  duty  of  divine  appoint- 
ment. "  Where  two  or  three,"  says  Christ,  "  are  gathered  to- 
gether in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."*  This 
invitation  will  want  nothing  of  the  force  of  a  command  with  those 
who  respect  the  person  and  authority  from  which  it  proceeds. 
Again,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  "  not  forsaking  the  assem- 
bling of  ourselves  together,  as  the  manner  of  some  is  ;wf  which 
reproof  seems  as  applicable  to  the  desertion  of  our  public  worship 
at  this  day,  as  to  the  forsaking  the  religious  assemblies  of  Chris- 
tians in  the  age  of  the  Apostle.  Independently  of  these  passages 
of  scripture,  a  disciple  of  Christianity  will  hardly  think  himself 
at  liberty  to  dispute  a  practice  set  on  foot  by  the  inspired  preach- 
ers of  his  religion,  coeval  with  its  institution,  and  retained  by 
every  sect  into  which  it  has  been  since  divided. 

*  Matt,  xviii.  20.        f  Heb.  x-  25- 


2B6  0P  FORMS  OF  PRAYER 

CHAPTER  V. 

OF  FORMS  OF  PRAYER  IN  PUBLIC   WORSHIP. 

LITURGIES,  or  preconcerted  forms  of  public  devotion,  being 
neither  enjoined  in  Scripture,  nor  forbidden,  there  can  be  no  good 
reason  for  either  receiving  or  rejecting  them,  but  that  of  expe- 
diency ;  which  expediency  is  to  be  gathered  from  a  comparison 
of  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  attending  upon  this  mode  of 
worship,  with  those  which  usually  accompany  extemporary 
prayer. 

The  advantages  of  a  liturgy  are  these  : 

I.  That  it  prevents  absurd,  extravagaut.  or  impious  addresses 
to  God,  which,  in  an  order  of  men  so  numerous  as  the  sacerdotal, 
the  folly  and  enthusiasm  of  many  must  always  be  in  danger  of 
producing,  where  the  conduct  of  the  public  worship  is  entrusted, 
without  restraint  or  assistance,  to  the  discretion  and  abilities  of 
the  officiating  minister. 

II.  That  it  prevents  the  confusion  of  extemporary  prayer,  in 
which  the  congregation  being  ignorant  of  each  petition  before 
they  hear  it,  and  having  little  or  no  time  to  join  in  it  afler  they 
have  heard  it,  are  confounded  between  their  attention  to  the  min- 
ister, and  to  i  heir  own  devotion.  The  devotion  of  the  hearer  is 
necessarily  suspended,  until  a  petition  be  concluded;  and  before 
he  can  assent  to  it,  or  properly  adopt  it,  that  is,  before  he  can 
address  the  same  request  to  God  for  himself,  and  from  himself, 
his  attention  is  called  oft*  to  keep  pace  with  what  succeeds.  Add 
to  this,  that  the  mind  of  the  hearer  is  held  in  continual  expecta- 
tion, aud  detained  from  its  proper  business  by  the  very  novelty 
with  which  it  is  gratified.  A  congregation  may  be  pleased  and 
affected  with  the  prayers  and  devotion  of  their  minister,  without 
joining  in  them  ;  in  like  manner  as  an  audience  oftentimes  are 
with  the  representation  of  devotion  upon  the  stage,  who,  never- 
theless, come  away  without  being  conscious  of  having  exercised 
any  act  of  devotion  themselves.  Joint  prayer,. which  amongst  all 
denominations  of  Christians  is  the  declared  design  of  "  coming  to- 
gether," is  prayer  in  which  all  join ;  and  not  that  which  one 


IN  PUBLIC  WORSHIP.  g3^ 

alone  in  the  congregation  conceives  and  delivers,  and  of  which 
the  rest  are  merely  hearers.  This  objection  seems  fundamental, 
and  holds  even  where  the  minister's  office  is  discharged  with  every 
possible  advantage  and  accomplishment.  The  labouring  recol- 
lection, and  embarrassed  and  tumultuous  delivery,  of  many  ex- 
tempore speakers,  from  an  additional  objection  to  this  mode  of 
public  worship :  for  these  imperfections  are  very  general,  and 
give  great  pain  to  the  serious  part  of  a  congregation,  as  well  as 
afford  a  profane  diversion  to  the  levity  of  the  other  part. 

These  advantages  of  a  liturgy  are  connected  with  two  principal 
inconveniences ;  first,  that  forms  of  prayer  composed  in  one  age, 
become  unfit  for  another,  by  the  unavoidable  change  of  language, 
circumstances,  and  opinions  ;  secondly,  that  the  perpetual  repeti- 
tion of  the  same  form  of  words  produces  weariness  and  inatten- 
tiveness  in  the  congregalion.  However,  both  these  inconvenien- 
ces are  in  their  nature  vincible.  Occasional  revisions  of  a  liturgy 
may  obviate  the  first,  and  devotion  will  supply  a  remedy  for  the 
second  :  or  they  may  both  subsist  in  a  considerable  degree,  and 
yet  be  out  weighed  by  the  objections  which  are  inseparable  from 
extemporary  prayer. 

The  Lord's  Prayer  is  a  precedent,  as  well  as  a  pattern,  for 
forms  of  prayer.  Our  Lord  appears,  if  not  to  have  prescribed, 
at  least  to  have  authorized  the  use  of  fixed  forms,  when  he  com- 
plied with  the  request  of  the  disciple,  who  said  unto  him,  "Lord, 
teach  us  to  pray,  as  John  also  taught  his  disciples."     Lukexi.  1. 

The  properties  required  in  a  public  liturgy  are,  that  it  be  com. 
pendious;  that  it  express  just  conceptions  of  the  divine  attri- 
butes; that  it  recite  such  wants  as  a  congregation  are  likely  to 
feel,  and  no  other;  and  that  it  contain  as  few  controverted  pro- 
positions as  possible. 

I.  That  it  be  compendious. 

It  were  no  difficult  task  to  contract  the  liturgies  of  most 
churches  into  half  their  present  compass,  and  yet  retain  every 
distinct  petition,  as  well  as  the  substance  of  every  sentiment, 
which  can  be  found  in  them.  But  brevity  may  be  studied  too 
much.  The  composer  of  a  liturgy  must  not  sit  down  to  his  work 
with  the  hope,  that  the  devotion  of  the  congregation  will  be  uni- 
formly sustained  throughout,  or  that  every  part  will  be  attended 
to  by  every  hearer.  If  this  could  be  depended  upon,  a.  very  short 
service  would  be  sufficient  for  every  purpose  that  can  be  answer- 


g38  0F  FORMS  OF  PRAYER 

ed  or  designed  by  social  worship :  but  seeing  the  attention  of 
most  men  is  apt  to  wander  and  return  at  intervals,  and  by  starts, 
lie  will  admit  a  certain  degree  of  amplification  and  repetition,  of 
diversity  of  expression  upon  the  same  subject,  and  variety  of 
phrase  and  form,  with  little  addition  to  the  sense,  to  the  end  that 
the  attention  which  has  been  slumbering  or  absent  during  one 
part  of  the  service,  may  be  excited  and  recalled  by  another;  and 
the  assembly  kept  together  until  it  may  reasonably  be  presumed, 
that  the  most  heedless  and  inadvertent,  have  performed  some  act 
of  devotion,  and  the  most  desultory  attention  been  caught  by 
some  part  or  other  of  the  public  service.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
too  great  length  of  church  services,  is  more  unfavourable  to  piety, 
than  almost  any  fault  of  composition  can  be.  It  begets  in  many 
an  early  and  unconquerable  dislike  to  the  public  worship  of  their 
country  or  communion.  They  come  to  church  seldom  ;  and  enter 
the  doors,  when  they  do  come,  under  the  apprehension  of  a  tedi- 
ous attendance,  which  tbey  prepare  for  at  first,  or  soon  after 
relieve,  by  composing  themselves  to  a  drowsy  forgetfulness  of  the 
place  and  duty,  or  by  sending  abroad  their  thoughts  in  search 
of  more  amusing  occupation.  Although  there  may  be  some  few 
of  a  disposition  not  to  be  wearied,  with  religious  exercises;  yet, 
where  a  ritual  is  prolix,  and  the  celebration  of  divine  service 
long,  no  effect  is  in  general  to  be  looked  for,  but  that  indolence 
will  find  in  it  an  excuse,  and  piety  be  disconcerted  by  impa- 
tience, i 

The  length  and  repetitions  complained  of  in  our  liturgy  are 
not  so  much  the  fault  of  the  compilers,  as  the  effect  of  uniting 
into  one  service  what  was  originally,  but  with  very  little  regard 
to  the  conveniency  of  the  people,  distributed  into  three.  Not- 
withstanding that  dread  of  innovotions  in  religion,  which  seems 
to  have  become  the  fanic  of  the  age,  few,  I  should  suppose,  would 
he  displeased  with  such  omissions,  abridgements,  or  change  in 
the  arrangement,  as  the  combination  of  separate  services  mu9t 
necessarily  require,  even  supposing  each  to  have  been  faultless  in 
itself.  If,  together  with  these  alterations,  the  Epistles  and  Gos- 
pels, and  Collects  which  precede  them,  were  composed  and  select- 
ed with  more  regard  to  unity  of  subject  and  design  ;  and  the 
Psalms  and  Lessons  either  left  to  the  choice  of  the  minister,  or 
better  accommodated  to  the  capacity  of  the  audience,  and  the 
edification  of  modern  life ;  the  church  of  Englaud  would  be  in 


IN  PUBLIC  WORSHIP.        •  2B9 

possession  of  a  liturgy,  in  which  those  who  assent  to  her  doc- 
trines woiiid  have  little  to  blame,  and  the  most  dissatisfied  must 
acknowledge  many  beauties.  The  style  throughout  is  excellent ; 
calm,  without  coldness  ;  and  though  every  where  sedate,  often- 
times affecting.  The  pauses  in  the  service  are  disposed  at  proper 
intervals.  The  transitions  from  one  office  of  devotion  to  another, 
from  confession  to  prayer,  from  prayer  to  thanksgiving,  from 
thanksgiving  to  "  hearing  of  the  word,"  are  contrived,  like  scenes 
in  the  drama,  to  supply  the  mind  with  a  succession  of  diversified 
engagements.  As  much  variety  is  introduced  also  in  the  form  of 
praying,  as  this  kind  of  composition  seems  capable  of  admitting. 
The  prayer  atone  time  is  continued;  at  another,  broken  by  re- 
sponses, or  cast  into  short  alternate  ejaculations ;  and  sometimes 
the  congregation  is  called  upon  to  take  their  share  in  the  service, 
by  being  left  to  complete  a  sentence  which  the  minister  had  begun. 
The  enumeration  of  human  wants  and  sufferings  in  the  Litany 
is  almost  complete.  A  Christian  petitioner  can  have  few  things 
to  ask  of  God,  or  to  deprecate,  which  he  will  not  find  there 
expressed,  and  for  the  most  part  with  inimitable  tenderness  and 
simplicity. 

II.  That  it  express  just  conceptions  of  the  divine  attributes. 

This  is  an  article  in  which  no  care  can  be  too  great.  The  pop- 
ular notions  of  God  are  formed,  in  a  great  measure,  from  the  ac- 
counts which  the  people  receive  of  his  nature,  and  character  in 
their  religious  assemblies.  An  errour  here  becomes  the  errour  of 
multitudes  ;  and  as  it  is  a  subject  in  which  almost  every  opinion 
leads  the  way  to  some  practical  consequence,  the  purity  or  de- 
pravation of  public  manners  will  be  affected,  amongst  other 
causes,  by  the  truth  or  corruption  of  the  public  forms  of  wor- 
ship. 

III.  That  it  recite  such  wants  as  the  congregation  are  likely 
to  feel,  and  no  other. 

Of  forms  of  prayer,  which  offend  not  egregious'y  against  truth 
aud  decency,  that  has  the  most  merit,  which  is  best  calculated 
to  keep  alive  the  devotion  of  the  assembly.  It  were  to  be  wished, 
therefore,  that  every  part  of  a  liturgy  were  personally  applica- 
ble to  every  individual  in  the  congregation ;  aud  that  nothing 
were  introduced  to  interrupt  the  passion,  or  damp  the  flame,  which 
it  is  not  easy  to  rekindle.  Upon  this  principle,  the  state praijers 
in  our  liturgy  should  be  fewer  and  shorter.      Whatever  may  be 


240  0F  FORMS  OF  PRAYER  IN  PUBLIC  WORSHIP- 

pretended,  the  congregation  do  not  feel  that  concern  in  the  sub- 
ject of  these  prayers,  which  must  be  felt,  or  ever  prayer  be  made 
to  God  with  earnestness.  The  state  style  likewise  seems  unsea- 
sonably introduced  into  these  prayers,  as  ill  according  with  that 
annihilation  of  human  greatness,  of  which  every  act  that  carries 
the  mind  to  God  presents  the  idea. 

IV.    That   it   contain  as  few   controverted   propositions    as 
possible. 

We  allow  to  each  church  the  truth  of  its  peculiar  tenets,  and 
all  the  importance  which  zeal  can  ascribe  to  them.  We  dispute 
not  here  the  right  or  the  expediency  of  framing  creeds,  or  of  im- 
posing subscriptions.  But  why  should  every  position  which  a 
church  maintains,  be  woven  with  so  much  industry  into  her  forms 
of  public  worship  ?  Some  are  offended,  and  some  are  excluded  : 
this  is  an  evil  of  itself,  at  least  to  them:  and  what  advantage  or 
satisfaction  can  be  derived  to  the  rest,  from  the  separation  of 
their  brethren,  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  ;  unless  it  were  a  duty  to 
publish  our  system  of  polemic  divinity,  under  the  name  of  mak- 
ing confession  of  our  faith,  every  time  we  worship  God ;  or  a  sin 
to  agree  in  religious  exercises  with  those,  from  whom  we  differ  in 
some  religious  opinions.  Indeed,  where  one  man  thinks  it  is  his 
duty  constantly  to  worship  a  being,  whom  another  cannot,  with 
the  assent  of  his  conscience,  permit  himself  to  worship  at  all, 
there  seems  to  be  no  place  for  comprehension,  or  any  expedient 
left,  but  a  quiet  secession.  All  other  differences  may  be  compro- 
mised by  silence.  If  sects  and  schisms  be  an  evil,  they  are  as 
much  to  be  avoided  by  one  side  as  the  other.  If  sectaries  are 
blamed  for  taking  unnecessary  offence,  established  churches  are 
no  less  culpable  for  unnecessarily  giving  it  :  they  are  bound  at 
least  to  produce  a  command,  or  a  reason  of  equivalent  utilitv, 
for  shutting  out  any  from  their  communion,  by  mixing  with 
divine  worship  doctrines  which,  whether  true  or  false,  are  un- 
connected in  their  nature  with  devotion. 


THE  USE  OF  SABBATICAL    INSTITUTIONS-  g4f 

CHAPTER  VI. 

OF  THE  USE  OF  SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS, 

AN  assembly  cannot  be  collected,  unless  the  time  of  assembling 
be  fixed  and  known  beforehand  ;  and  if  the  design  of  the  assembly 
require  that  it  be  holden  frequently,  it  is  easiest  that  it  should  re- 
turn at  stated  intervals.  This  produces  a  necessity  of  appropriat- 
ing set  seasons  to  the  social  offices  of  religion.  It  is  also  highly 
convenient,  that  the  same  seasons  be  observed  throughout  the 
country,  that  all  may  be  employed,  or  all  at  leisure  together ;  for  if 
the  recess  from  worldly  occupation  be  not  general,  one  man's  bu- 
siness will  perpetually  interfere  with  another  man's  devotion  ;  the 
buyer  will  be  calling  at  the  shop  when  the  seller  is  gone  to 
church.  This  part,  therefore,  of  the  religious  distinction  of 
seasons  ;  namely,  a  general  intermission  of  labour  and  business 
during  times  previously  set  apart  for  the  exercise  of  public  wor- 
ship, is  founded  in  the  reasons  which  make  public  worship  itself 
a  duty.  But  the  celebration  of  divine  service  never  occupies  the 
whole  day.  What  remains,  therefore,  of  Sunday,  beside  the  part 
of  it  employed  at  church,  must  be  considered  as  a  mere  rest  from 
the  ordinary  occupations  of  civil  life ;  and  he  who  would  defend 
the  institution,  as  it  is  required  by  law  to  be  observed  in  Christian 
countries,  unless  he  can  produce  a  command  for  a  Christian  Sab- 
bath, must  point  out  the  use  of  it  in  that  view. 

First,  then,  that  interval  of  relaxation  which  Sunday  affords  to 
the  laborious  part  of  mankind  contributes  greatly  to  the  comfort 
and  satisfaction  of  their  lives,  both  as  it  refreshes  them  for  the 
time,  and  as  it  relieves  their  six  days'  labour  by  the  prospect  of  a 
day  of  rest  always  approaching  :  which  could  not  be  said  of 
casual  indulgencies  of  leisure  and  rest,  even  were  they  more  fre- 
quent than  there  is  reason  to  expect  they  would  be,  if  left  to  the 
discretion  or  humanity  of  interested  task-masters.  To  this  dif- 
ference it  may  be  added,  that  holidays,  which  eome  seldom  and 
unexpected,  are  unprovided,  when  they  do  come,  with  any  duty 
or  employment ;  and  the  manner  of  spending  them  beiug  regulated 
by  no  public  decency  or  established  usage,  they  are  commonly 
consumed  in  rude,  if  not  criminal  pastimes,  in  stupid  sloth,  or 
31 


24$  THE  USE  OF  SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 

brutish  intemperance.  Whoever  considers  how  much  sabbatical 
institutions  conduce,  in  this  respect,  to  the  happiness  and  civiliza- 
tion of  the  labouring  classes  of  mankind,  and  reflects  how  great 
a  majority  of  the  human  species  these  classes  compose,  will  ac- 
knowledge the  utility,  whatever  he  may  believe  of  the  origin,  of 
this  distinction  ;  and  will  consequently  perceive  it  to  be  every 
man's  duty  to  uphold  the  observation  of  Sunday  when  once  es- 
tablished, let  the  establishment  have  proceeded  from  whom  or 
from  what  authority  it  will 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  lost  to  the  community  by  the  intermis- 
sion of  public  industry  one  day  in  the  week.  For,  in  countries 
tolerably  advanced  in  population  and  the  arts  of  civil  life,  there 
is  always  enough  of  human  labour,  and  to  9pare.  The  difficulty 
is  not  so  much  to  procure,  as  to  employ  it.  The  addition  of  the 
seventh  day's  labour  to  that  of  the  other  six  would  have  no 
other  effect  than  to  reduce  the  price.  The  labourer  himself,  who 
deserved  and  suffered  most  by  the  change,  would  gain  nothing. 

2.  Sunday,  by  suspending  many  public  diversions,  and  the  ordi- 
nary rotation  of  employment,  leaves  to  men  of  all  ranks  and  pro- 
fessions sufficient  leisure,  aud  not  more  than  what  is  sufficient, 
both  for  the  external  offices  of  Christianity,  and  the  retired,  but 
equally  necessary  duties  of  religious  meditation  and  inquiry.  It 
is  true,  that  many  do  not  convert  their  leisure  to  this  purpose  ; 
hut  it  is  of  moment,  and  is  all  which  a  public  constitution  can 
effect,  that  to  every  one  be  allowed  the  opportunity. 

3.  They  whose  humanity  embraces  the  whole  sensitive  creation, 
will  esteem  it  no  inconsiderable  recommendation  of  a  weekly  re- 
turn of  public  rest,  that  it  affords  a  respite  to  the  toil  of  brutes. 
Nor  can  we  omit  to  recount  this  among  the  uses  which  the  divine 
founder  of  the  Jewish  sabbath  expressly  appointed  a  law  of  the 
institution. 

We  admit,  that  none  of  these  reasons  shew  why  Sunday  should 
be  preferred  to  any  other  day  in  the  week,  or  one  day  in  seven  to 
one  day  in  six  or  eight :  but  these  points,  which  in  their  nature 
are  of  arbitrary  determination,  being  established  to  our  hands, 
our  obligation  applies  to  the  subsisting  establishment,  so  long  as 
we  confess  that  some  such  institution  is  necessary,  and  are  neither 
able,  nor  attempt  to  substitute  any  other  in  its  place. 


OF  SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS.  g^J 

CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  THE  SCRIPTURE  ACCOUNT  OF  SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 

THE  subject,  so  far  as  it  makes  any  part  of  Christian  morality, 
is  contained  in  two  questions  : 

I.  Whether  the  command,  by  which  the  Jewish  sabbath  wai 
instituted,  extends  to  Christians  ? 

II.  Whether  any  new  command  was  delivered  by  Christ ;  or 
any  other  day  substituted  in  the  plaee  of  the  Jewish  sabbath  by 
the  authority  or  example  of  his  Apostles  ? 

In  treating  of  the  first  question,  it  will  be  necessary  to  collect 
the  accounts  which  are  preserved  of  the  institution  in  the  Jewish 
history ;  for  the  seeing  these  accounts  tog-'ther,  and  in  one  point 
of  view,  will  be  the  best  preparation  for  the  discussing  or  judging 
of  any  arguments  on  one  side  or  the  other. 

In  the  second  chapter  of  Genesis,  the  historian,  having  con- 
cluded his  account  of  the  six  days'  creation,  proceeds  thus  : 
"  And  on  the  seventh  day  God  ended  his  work  which  he  had 
made ;  and  he  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  all  his  work  which 
he  had  made  ;  and  God  blessed  the  seventh  day  and  sanctified  it, 
because  that  in  it  he  had  rested  from  all  his  work  which  God 
created  and  made."  After  this,  we  hear  no  more  of  the  sabbath, 
or  of  the  seventh  day,  as  in  any  manner  distinguished  from  Lie 
other  six,  until  the  history  brings  us  down  to  the  sojourning  of 
the  Jews  in  the  wilderness,  when  the  following  remarkable  pas- 
gage  occurs.  Upon  the  complaint  of  the  people  for  want  of  food, 
God  was  pleased  to  provide  for  their  relief  by  a  miraculous  sup- 
ply of  manna,  which  was  found  every  morning  upon  the  ground 
about  the  camp ;  "  and  they  gathered  it  every  morning,  every 
man  according  to  his  eating;  and  when  the  sun  waxed  hot,  it 
melted  5  and  it  came  to  pass,  that  on  the  sixth  day  they  gathered 
twice  as  much  bread,  two  omers  for  one  man ;  and  all  the  rulers 
of  the  congregation  came  and  told  Moses  ;  and  he  said  unto  them, 
This  is  that  which  the  Lord  hath  said,  To-morrow  is  the  rest  of 
the  holy  sabbath  unto  the  Lord  ;  bake  that  which  ye  will  bake,  to- 
day, and  seethe  that  ye  will  seethe,  and  that  which  remaineth  over, 
lay  up  for  you, to  be  kept  until  the  morning  :  and  they  laid  it  up 


g4$  SCRIPTURE  ACCOUNT  OF 

till  the  morning,  as  Moses  hade,  and  it  did  not  slink,  (as  it  had 
done  before,  when  some  of  them  left  it  till  the  morning,)  neither 
was  there  any  worm  therein.  And  Moses  said,  Eat  that  to  day ; 
for  to-day  is  a  sabbath  unto  the  Lord:  to-day  ye  shall  not  find  it 
in  the  field.  Six  days  ye  shall  geather  it,  but  on  the  seventh  day, 
which  is  the  sabbath,  in  it  there  shall  be  none.  And  it  came  to 
passj  that  there  went  out  some  of  the  people  on  the  seventh  day 
for  to  gather,  and  they  found  none.  And  the  Lord  said  unto 
Moses,  How  long  refuse  ye  to  keep  my  commandments  and  my 
laws  ?  See,  for  that  the  Lord  hath  given  you  the  sabbath,  therefore 
he  giveth  you  on  the  sixth  day  the  bread  of  two  days  :  abide  ye 
every  man  in  his  place  ;  let  no  man  go  out  of  his  place  on  the 
seventh  day  :  so  the  people  rested  on  the  seventh  day.''  Exod.  xvi. 

Not  long  after  tins,  the  sabbath,  as  is  well  known,  was  estab- 
lished with  great  solemnity  in  the  fourth  commandment. 

Now,  in  my  opinion,  the  transaction  in  the  wilderness  above 
recited,  was  the  first  actual  institution  of  the  sabbath.  For,  if 
the  sabbath  had  been  instituted  at  the  time  of  the  creation,  as  the 
words  in  Genesis  may  seem  at  first  sight  to  import  ;  and  if  it  had 
been  observed  all  along  from  that  lime  to  the  departure  of  the 
Jews  out  of  Egypt,  a  period  of  about  two  thousand  five  hundred 
years,  it  appears  unaccountable  that  no  mention  of  it,  no  occasion 
of  even  the  obscurest  allusion  to  it,  should  occur,  either  in  the 
general  history  of  the  world  before  the  call  of  Abraham,  which 
contains,  we  admit,  only  a  few  memoirs  of  its  early  ages,  and 
those  extremely  abridged ;  or,  which  is  more  to  be  wondered  at, 
in  that  of  the  lives  of  the  three  first  Jewish  patriarchs,  which,  in 
many  parts  of  the  account,  is  sufficiently  circumstantial  and  do- 
mestic. Nor  is  there,  in  the  passage  above  quoted  from  the  six- 
teenth chapter  of  Exodus,  any  intimation  that  the  sabbath,  when 
appointed  to  be  observed,  was  only  the  revival  of  an  ancient  in- 
stitution, which  had  been  neglected,  forgotten,  or  suspended ;  nor 
is  any  such  neglect  imputed  either  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  old 
World,  or  to  any  part  of  the  family  of  Noah  ;  nor,  lastly,  is  any 
permission  recorded  to  dispense  with  the  institution  during  the 
captivity  of  the  Jews  in  Egypt,  or  on  any  other  public  emer- 
gency. 

The  passage  in  the  second  chapter  of  Genesis,  which  creates 
the  whole  controversy  upon  the  subject,  is  not  inconsistent  with 
this  opinion  :  for,  as  the  seventh  day  was  erected  into  a  sabbath, 


SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS.  245 

on  account  of  God's  resting  upon  that  day  from  the  work  of  the 
creation,  it  was  natural  enough  in  the  historian,  when  he  had  re- 
lated the  history  of  the  creation,  and  of  God's  ceasing  from  it  on 
the  seveuth  day,  to  add,  "  and  God  blessed  the  seventh  day,  and 
sanctified  it,  because  that  on  it  he  had  rested  from  all  his  work 
which  God  created  and  made  ;"  although  the  blessing  and  sanc- 
tification,  i.  e.  the  religious  distinction  and  appropriation  of  that 
day,  were  not  actually  made  till  many  ages  afterwards.  The 
words  do  not  assert,  that  God  then  "  blessed"  and  "  sanctified" 
the  seventh  day,  but  that  he  blessed  and  sanctified  it  for  that  rea- 
son ;  and  if  any  ask,  why  the  sabbath,  or  sanetification  of  the 
seventh  day,  was  then  mentioned,  if  it  was  not  then  appointed, 
the  answer  is  at  hand  ;  the  order  of  connexion,  and  not  of  time, 
introduced  the  mention  of  the  sabbath,  in  the  history  of  the  sub- 
ject which  it  was  ordained  to  commemorate. 

This  interpretation  is  strongly  supported  by  a  passage  in  the 
prophet  Ezekiel,  where  the  sabbath  is  plainly  spoken  of  as  given: 
and  what  else  can  that  mean,  but  as  first  instituted,  in  the  wil- 
derness ?  "  Wherefore  I  caused  them  to  go  forth  out  of  the  land 
of  Egypt,  and  brought  them  into  the  wilderness  ;  and  I  gave 
them  my  statutes  and  shewed  them  my  judgments,  which  if  a 
man  do,  he  shall  even  live  in  them  :  moreover  also  I  gave  them 
my  sabbaths,  to  be  a  sign  between  me  and  them,  that  they  might 
know  that  I  am  the  Lord  that  sanctify  them."  Ezek.  xx.  10, 
11,  12. 

Nehemiah  also  recounts  the  promulgation,  of  the  sabbatic  law 
amongst  the  transactions  in  the  wilderness  ;  which  supplies  an- 
other considerable  argument  in  aid  of  our  opinion  :  "  Moreover 
thou  leddest  them  in  the  day  by  a  cloudy  pillar,  and  in  the  night 
by  a  pillar  of  fire,  to  give  them  light  in  the  way  wherein  they 
should  go.  Thou  earnest  down  also  upon  Mount  Sinai,  and 
spakest  with  them  from  heaven,  aud  gavest  them  right  judgments 
and  true  laws,  good  statutes  and  commandments,  and  madest 
knoivn  unto  them  thy  holy  sabbath,  and  eommandest  them  pre- 
cepts, statutes,  and  laws,  by  the  hand  of  Moses  thy  servant,  and 
gavest  them  bread  from  heaven,  for  their  hunger,  and  broughtest 
forth  water  for  them  out  of  the  rock."*    Nehcm.  ix.  12. 

*  From  the  mention  of  the  sabbath  in  so  close  a  connexion  with  the  descent 
of  God  upon  Mount  Sinai,  and  the  delivery  of  the  law  from  thence,  one 
would  be  inclined  to  believe,  that  Nehemiah  referred  solelv  to  the  fourth 


sj4,(5  SCRIPTURE  ACCOUNT  OF 

If  it  be  inquired  what  duties  were  appointed  for  the  Jewish 
sabbath,  and  under  what  penalties  and  in  what  manner  it  was 
observed  amongst  the  ancient  Jews  ;  we  find  that  by  the  fourth 
commandment,  a  strict  cessation  from  work  was  enjoined,  not 
only  upon  Jews  by  birth,  or  religious  profession,  but  upon  all 
who  resided  within  the  limits  of  the  Jewish  state:  that  the  same 
was  to  be  permitted  to  their  slaves  and  their  cattle  ;  that  this  rest 
was  not  to  be  violated  under  pain  of  death  :  "  Whosoever  doeth 
any  work  in  the  sabbath  day,  he  shall  surely  be  put  to  death." 
Exod.  xxxi.  15.  Beside  which,  the  seventh  day  was  to  be  sol- 
emnized by  double  sacrifices  in  the  temple,  "  And  on  the  sab- 
hath  day  two  lambs  of  the  first  year  without  spot,  and  two  tenth 
deals  of  flour  for  a  meat  offering,  mingled  with  oil,  and  the  drink 
offering  thereof;  this  is  the  burnt  offering  of  every  sabbath,  be- 
side the  continual  burnt  offering  and  his  drink  offering."  Numb, 
xxviii.  9, 10.  Also  holy  convocations*  which  mean,  we  presume, 
assemblies  for  the  purpose  of  public  worship  or  religious  instruc- 
tion, were  directed  to  be  holden  on  the  sabbath  day ;  "  the 
seventh  day  is  a  sabbath  of  rest,  an  holy  convocation."  Lev. 
xxiii.  3. 

And  accordingly  we  read  that  the  sabbath  was  in  fact  observed 
amongst  the  Jews,  by  a  scrupulous  abstinence  from  every  thing 
which  by  any  possible  construction,  could  be  deemed  labour;  as 
from  dressing  meat,  from  travelling  beyond  a  sabbath  day's 
journey,  or  about  a  single  mile.  In  the  Maccabean  wars,  they 
suffered  a  thousand  of  their  number  to  be  slain,  rather  than  do 
any  thing  in  their  own  defence  on  the  sabbath  day.  In  the  final 
siege  of  Jerusalem,  after  they  had  so  far  overcome  their  scruples 
as  to  defend  their  persons  when  attacked,  they  refused  any  opera- 
tion on  the  sabbath  day,  by  which  they  might  have  interrupted  the 
enemy  in  filling  up  the  trench.  After  the  establishment  of  syna- 
gogues (of  the  origin  of  which  we  have  no  account,)  it  was  the 
custom  to  assemble  in  them  upon  the  sabbath  day,  for  the  purpose 
of  hearing  the  law  rehearsed  and  explained,  and  for  the  exercise, 

commandment.  But  the  fourth  commandment  certainly  did  not  first  make 
known  the  sabbath.  And  it  is  apparent,  that  Nehemiah  observed  not  the 
order  of  events,  for  he  speaks  of  what  passed  upon  Mount  Sinai,  before  he 
mentions  the  miraculous  supplies  of  bread  and  water,  though  the  Jews  did 
not  arrive  at  Mount  Sinai,  till  some  time  after  both  these  miracles  were 
wrought. 


SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS.  ffltf 

It  is  probable,  of  public  devotion.  "  For  Moses  of  old  time  hath 
in  every  city  them  that  preach  him,  being  read  in  the  syna- 
gogues every  sabbath  day."  The  seventh  day  is  Saturday  ;  and, 
agreeably  to  the  Jewish  way  of  computing  the  day,  the  sabbath 
held  from  six  o'clock  on  the  Friday  evening,  to  six  o'clock  on 
Saturday  evening These  observations  being  premised,  we  ap- 
proach the  main  question,  Whether  the  command  by  which  the 
Jewish  sabbath  was  instituted  extend  to  us  ? 

If  the  divine  command  was  actually  delivered  at  the  creation, 
it  was  addressed,  no  doubt,  to  the  whole  human  species  alike,  and 
^continues  unless  repealed  by  some  subsequent  revelation,  binding 
upon  all  who  come  to  the  knowledge  of  it.  If  the  command  was 
published  for  the  first  time  in  the  wilderness,  then  it  was  imme- 
diately directed  to  the  Jewish  people  alone  ;  and  something  far- 
ther, either  in  the  subject,  or  circumstances,  of  the  command, 
will  be  neeessary  to  show,  that  it  was  designed  for  any  other.  It 
is  on  this  account,  that  the  question  concerning  the  date  of  the 
institution  was  first  to  be  considered.  The  former  opinion  pre- 
cludes all  debate  about  the  extent  of  the  obligation  :  the  latter 
admits,  and,  prima  facie,  induces*  a  belief,  that  the  sabbath 
ought  to  be  considered  as  part  of  the  peculiar  law  of  the  Jewish 
policy. 

Which  belief  receives  great  confirmation  from  the  following 
arguments. 

The  sabbath  is  described  as  a  sign  between  God  and  the  people 
of  Israel:  "  Wherefore  the  children  of  Israel  shall  keep  the  sab- 
bath, to  observe  the  sabbath  throughout  their  generations  for  a 
perpetual  covenant ;  it  is  a  sign  between  me  and  the  children  of 
Israel  forever."  Exodus  xxxi.  16,  17.  Again,  "  And  I  gave 
them  my  statutes,  and  showed  them  my  judgments,  which  if  a  man 
do,  he  shall  even  live  in  them ;  moreover  also  I  gave  them  my 
sabbath,  to  be  a  sign  between  me  and  them,  that  they  might  know 
that  I  am  the  Lord  that  sanctify  them."  Ezek.  xx.  ±2.  Now  it 
does  not  seem  easy  to  understand,  how  the  sabbath  could  be  a  sign 
between  God  and  the  people  of  Israel,  unless  the  observance  of  it 
was  peculiar  to  that  people,  and  designed  to  be  so. 

The  distinction  of  the  sabbath  is,  in  its  nature,  as  much  a  posi- 
tive ceremonial  institution,  as  that  of  many  other  seasons  which 
were  appointed  by  the  Levitical  law  to  be  kept  holy,  and  to  be 
observed  by  a  strict  rest ;  as  the  first  and  seventh  days  of  unleav- 


g^g  SCRIPTURE  ACCOUNT  OF 

ened  bread ;  the  feast  of  pentecost ;  the  feast  of  tabernacles ;  and 
in  the  twenty-third  chapter  of  Exodus,  the  sabbath  and  these  are 
recited  together. 

If  the  command  by  which  the  sabbath  was  instituted  be  binding 
npon  Christians,  it  must  be  binding  as  to  the  day,  the  duties,  and 
the  peuaity  ;  in  none  of  which  it  is  received. 

The  observance  of  (he  sabbath,  was  not  one  of  the  articles 
enjoined  by  the  Apostles,  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  Acts,  upon 
them  "tvhieh  from  among  the  Gentiles,  were  turned  unto  God.'' 

St.  Paul  evidently  appears  to  have  considered  the  sabbath  as- 
part  of  the  Jewish  ritual,  and  not  obligatory  upon  .Christians  as 
such:  "Let  no  man  therefore  judge  you  in  meat  or  in  drink,  or 
in  respect  of  an  holy  day,  or  of  the  new  moon,  or  cf  the  sabbath 
days,  which  are  a.  shadow  of  things  to  come,  but  the  body  is  of 
Christ."     Col.  ii.  16,  17. 

I  am  aware  of  only  two  objections  which  can  be  opposed  to 
the  force  of  these  arguments  :  one  is,  that  the  reason  assigned  in 
the  fourth  commandment  for  hallowing  the  seventh  day,  namely, 
"  because  God  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  the  work  of  the  crea- 
tion," is  a  reason  which  pertains  to  all  mankind ;  the  other,  that 
the  command  which  enjoins  the  observance  of  the  sabbath  is  in- 
serted in  the  decalogue,  of  which  all  the  other  precepts  and  pro- 
hibitions are  of  moral  and  universal  obligation. 

Upon  the  first  objection  it  may  be  remarked,  that  although  in 
Exodus  the  commandment  is  founded  upon  God's  rest  from  the 
creation,  in  Deuteronomy  the  commandment  is  repeated  with  a 
reference  to  a  different  event:  "  Six  days  shall  thou  labour,  and 
do  all  thy  work ;  but  the  seventh  day  is  the  sabbath  of  the  Lord 
thy  God  :  in  it  thou  shalt  not  do  any  work,  thou,  nor  thy  son,  nor 
thy  daughter,  nor  thy  man-servant,  nor  thy  maid-servant,  nor 
thine  ox,  nor  thine  ass,  nor  any  of  thy  cattle,  nor  the  stranger 
that  is  within  thy  gates ;  that  thy  man-servant  and  thy  maid- 
servant, may  rest  as  well  as  thou  ;  and  remember  that  thou  wast 
a  servant  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  that  the  Lord  thy  God 
brought  thee  out  thence,  through  a  mighty  hand,  and  by  a  stretch- 
ed out  arm  ;  therefore  the  Lord  thy  God  commanded  thee,  to 
keep  the  sabbath  day.''  It  is  farther  observable,  that  God's  rest 
from  ihe  creation,  is  proposed  as  the  reason  of  the  institution, 
even  where  the  institution  itself  is  spoken  of  as  peculiar  to  the 
Jews  :— "  Wherefore  the  children  of  Israel  shall  keep  the  sab- 


SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS.  g£0 

bath,  to  observe  the  sabbath  throughout  their  generations,  for  a 
perpetual  covenant :  it  is  a  sign  between  tne  and  the  children  of 
Israel  forever:  for  in  six  days  the  Lord  made  heaven  and  earth, 
and  on  the  seventh  day  he  rested  and  was  refreshed."  The  truth 
is,  these  different  reasons  were  assigned  to  account  for  different 
circumstances  in  the  command.  If  a  Jew  inquired,  why  the 
seventh  day  was  sanctified  rather  than  the  sixth  or  eighth,  his  law 
told  him,  because  God  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  the  creation. 
If  he  asked  why  was  the  same  right  indulged  to  slaves?  his  law 
bade  him  remember,  that  he  also  was  a  slave  in  the  land  of  Egypt, 
and  "  that  the  Lord  his  God,  brought  him  out  thence."  In  this 
view,  the  two  reasons  are  perfectly  compatible  with  each  other, 
and  with  a  third  end  of  the  institution,  its  being  a  sign  between, 
God  and  the  people  of  Israel ;  but  in  this  view,  they  determine 
nothing  concerning  the  extent  of  the  obligation.  If  the  reason  by 
its  proper  energy  had  constituted  a  natural  obJigation,  or  if  it  had 
been  mentioned  with  a  view  to  the  extent  of  the  obligation,  we 
should  submit  to  the  conclusion,  that  all  were  comprehended  by 
the  command  who  are  concerned  in  the  reason.  But  the  sabbatic 
rest  lining  a  duty  which  results  from  the  ordination  and  au- 
thority of  a  positive  law,  the  reason  can  be  alleged  no  farther  than 
as  it  explains  the  design  of  the  legislator;  and  if  it  appear  to  be 
recited  with  an  intentional  application  to  one  part  of  the  law,  it 
explains  his  design  upon  no  other;  if  it  be  mentioned  merely  to 
account  for  the  choice  of  the  day,  it  does  not  explain  his  design 
as  to  the  extent  of  the  obligation. 

With  respect  to  the  second  objection,  that  inasmuch  as  the 
other  nine  commandments  are  confessedly  of  moral  and  universal 
obligation,  it  may  reasonably  be  presumed  that  this  is  of  the  same; 
we  answer,  that  this  argument  will  have  less  weight,  when  it  is 
considered  that  the  distinction  between  positive  and  natural  du- 
ties, like  other  distinctions  of  modern  ethicks,  was  unknown  to 
the  simplicity  of  ancient  language ;  and  that  there  are  various 
passages  in  scripture,  in  which  duties  of  a  political,  or  ceremonial, 
or  positive  nature,  and  confessedly  of  partial  obligation,  are  enu- 
merated, and  without  any  mark  of  discrimination,  along  with 
others  which  are  natural  and  universal.  Of  this  the  following  is 
an  incontestible  example :  "  But  if  a  man  he  just,  and  do  that 
which  is  lawful  and  right ;  and  hath  not  eaten  upon  the  moun- 
tains, nor  hath  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  the  idols  of  the  house  ©f 
33 


g50  SCRIPTURE  ACCOUNT  OF 

Israel ;  neither  hath  defiled  his  neighbour's  wife,  neither  hath  cdtne 
near  to  a  menstruous  woman  ;  and  hath  not  oppressed  any,  but 
hath  restored  to  the  debtor  his  pledge  j  hath  spoiled  none  by  vio- 
lence; hath  given  his  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  hath  covered  the 
naked  with  a  garment  ;  he  that  hath  not  given  upon  usury,  neither 
hath  taken  any  increase  ;  that  hath  withdrawn  his  hand  from  ini- 
quity ;  hath  exe^uied  true  judgment  between  man  and  man  ;  hath 
walked  in  my  statutes,  and  hath  kept  my  judgments  to  deal  truly  | 
he  is  just,  he  shall  surely  live,  saith  the  Lord  God."  Ezek.  xviiu 
5 — 9.  The  same  thing  may  be  observed  of  the  apostolic  decree 
recorded  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  Acts  : — "  It  seemed  good 
to  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  to  us,  to  lay  upon  you  no  greater  burden 
than  these  necessary  things,  that  ye  abstain  from  meats  offered  to- 
idols,  and  from  blood,  and  from  things  strangled,  and  from  fornix 
cation:  from  which  if  ye  keep  yourselves,  ye  shall  do  well." 

II.  If  the  law  by  which  the  sabbath  was  instituted,  was  a  law 
only  to  the  Jews,  it  becomes  an  important  question  with  the 
Christian  inquirer,  whether  the  founder  of  his  religion  delivered 
any  new  command  upon  the  subject ;  or,  if  that  should  not  ap- 
pear to  be  the  case,  whether  any  day  was  appropriated  to  the 
service  of  religion  by  the  authority  or  example  of  his  Apostles. 

The  practice  of  holding  religious  assemblies  upon  the  first  day 
of  the  week.  wa9  so  early  and  universal  in  the  Christian  church? 
that  it  carries  with  it  considerable  proof  of  having  originated 
from  some  precept  of  Christ,  or  of  his  Apostles,  though  none 
such  be  now  extant.  It  was  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week  that 
the  disciples  were  assembled,  when  Christ  appeared  to  them  for 
the  first  time  after  his  resurrection  i  "  then  the  same  day  at  even- 
ing, heins  the  first  day  of  the  iveek,  when  the  doors  were  shut 
where  the  disciples  were  assembled,  for  fear  of  the  Jews,  came 
Jesus  and  stood  in  the  midst  of  them."  John  xx.  19.  This,  for 
any  thing  that  appears  in  the  account,  might,  as  to  the  day,  have 
been  accidental :  but  in  the  26th  verse  of  the  same  chapter  we 
read,  "  that  after  eight  days,"  that  is,  on  the  first  day  of  the 
week  following,  "  again  the  disciples  were  within  jv  which  second 
meeting  upon  the  same  day  of  the  week  looks  like  an  appoint- 
ment and  design  to  meet  on  that  particular  day.  In  the  twentieth 
chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  we  find  the  same  custom 
in  a  Christian  church  at  a  great  distance  from  Jerusalem : — 
"  And  we  came  unto  them  to  Troas  in  five  days,  where  we  abode 


SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS*  g51 

seven  days ;  and  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week,  when  the  disciples 
came  together  to  break  bread,  Paul  preached  unto  them."    Acts 
xx.  6,  7.     The  manner  in  which  the  historian  mentions  the   dis- 
ciples coming  together  to  break  bread   on  the  first  day   of  the 
week,  shows,  I  think,  that  the  practice  by  this  time  was  familiar 
and  established.    St.  Paul  to  the  Corinthians  writes  thus :  "  Con- 
cerning the  collection  for  the  saints,  as  1  have  given  order  to  the 
churches  of  Galatia,  even  so  do  ye;  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week 
let  every  one  of  you  lay  by  him  in  store  as  God  hath  prospered 
Jiim,  that  there  be  no  gatherings  when  I  come."  1  Cor.  xvi.  l,  2. 
Which  direction  affords  a  probable  proof,  that  the  first  day  of 
the  week  was  already,  amongst  the  Christians  both  of  Corinth 
and  Galatia,  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  some  religious  ap- 
plication or  other.    At  the  time  that  St.  John  wrote  the  book  of 
his  revelation,  the  first  day  of  the  week  had  obtained  the  name 
of  the  Lord's  day — "  I  was  in  the  spirit"  (says  he)  "  on  the  Lord's 
day."     Rev.  i.  10.     Which  name,  and  St.  John's  use  of  it,  suffi- 
ciently denote  the  appropriation  of  this  day  to  the  service  of  re- 
ligion, and  that  this  appropriation  was  perfectly  known  to  the 
churches  of  Asia.     I  make  no  doubt  but  that  by  the  Lord's  day 
was  meant  the  first  day  of  the  week;  for  we  find  no  footsteps  of 
any  distinction  of  days,  which  could  entitle  any  other  to  that  ap- 
pellation.    The  subsequent  history  of  Christianity  corresponds 
with  the  accounts  delivered  on  this  subject  in  scripture. 

It  will  be  remembered,  that  we  are  contending,  by  these  proofs, 
for  no  other  duty  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week,  than  that  of 
holding  and  frequenting  religious  assemblies.  A  cessation  upon 
that  day  from  labour,  beyond  the  time  of  attendance  upon  public 
worship,  is  not  intimated  in  any  passage  of  the  New  Testament ; 
nor  did  Christ  or  his  Apostles  deliver,  that  we  know  of,  any 
command  to  their  disciples  for  a  discontinuance  upon  that  day  of 
the  common  offices  of  their  professions  :  a  reserve  which  none 
will  see  reason  to  wonder  at,  or  to  blame  as  a  defect  in  the  insti* 
tutiou,  who  consider  that,  in  the  primitive  condition  of  Christian- 
ity, the  observance  of  a  new  sabbath  would  have  been  useless,  or 
inconvenient,  or  impracticable.  During  Christ's  personal  minis- 
try his  religion  was  preached  to  the  Jews  alone.  They  already 
had  a  sabbath,  which,  as  citizens  and  subjects  of  that  economy, 
they  were  obliged  to  keep  and  did  keep.  It  was  not  therefore 
probable  that  Christ  would  enjoin  another  day  of  rest  in  conjunc 


<%£%  OF  SABBATICAL  INSTITUTIONS. 

tion  with  this.  When  the  new  religion  came  forth  into  the  Gen- 
tile world,  converts  to  it  were,  for  the  most  pari,  made  from 
those  classes  of  society  who  have  not  their  time  and  labour  at 
their  own  di-posal ;  and  it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  un- 
believing masters  and  magistrates,  and  they  who  directed  the 
employment,  of  others,  would  permit  their  slaves  and  labourers  to 
resi  from  their  work  ever)  seventh  day  ;  or  that  civil  govern- 
ment, indeed,  would  have  submitted  to  the  loss  of  a  seventh  part 
of  the  public  industry,  and  that  too  in  addition  to  the  numerous 
festivals  which  the  uatioual  religions  indulged  to  the  people  :  at 
least  this  would  have  been  an  incumbrance,  which  ought  have 
greatly  retarded  the  reception  of  Christianity  in  the  world.  Jn 
reality,  the  institution  of  a  weekly  sablsalh  is  so  connected  with 
the  functions  of  civil  life,  and  requires  so  much  of  the  concur- 
rence of  civil  laws  in  its  regulation  and  support,  that  it  cannot, 
perhaps,  properly  l»e  made  the  ordinance  of  any  religion,  till  that 
religion  be  received  as  the  religion  of  the  state. 

The  opinion,  that  Christ  and  his  Apostles  meant  to  retain  the 
duties  of  the  Jewish  sabbath,  shifting  only  the  day  from  the 
seventh  to  the  6rst,  seems  to  prevail  without  sufficient  proof;  nor 
does  any  evidence  remain  in  scripture  (of  what,  however,  is  not 
improbable,)  that  the  first  day  of  the  week  was  thus  distinguished 
in  commemoration  of  our  Lord's  resurrection. 

The  conclusion  from  the  whole  inquiry  (for  it  is  our  business, 
to  follow  the  arguments  to  whatever  probability  they  conduct  us) 
is  this:  The  assembling  upon  the  first  day  of  the.  week  for  the 
purpose  of  public  worship  and  religious  instruction,  is  a  law  of 
Christianity,  of  divine  appointment;  the  resting  on  that  day 
from  our  employments  longer  than  we  are  detaiued  from  them  by 
attendance  upon  these  assemblies,  is  to  Christians  an  ordinance  of 
human  institution ;  binding  nevertheless  upon  the  conscience  of 
every  individual  of  a  country  in  which  a  weekly  sabbath  is  estab- 
lished, for  the  sake  of  the  beneficial  purposes,  which  the  public 
and  regular  observance  of  it  promotes  j  and  recommended  perhaps 
in  some  degree  to  the  divine  approbation,  by  the  resemblance  it 
hears  to  what  God,  was  pleased  to  make  a  solemn  part  of  the 
law,  which  he  delivered  to  the  people  of  Israel,  and  by  its  sub- 
serviency to  many  of  the  same  uses. 


VIOLATION  OP  THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  %%% 


CHAPTER  VITI. 

BY  WHAT  ACTS  AND  OMISSIONS  THE  DUTY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN 
SABBATH  IS  VIOLATED. 

SINCE  the  obligation  upon  Christians,  to  comply  with  the  re- 
ligious observance  of  Sunday,  arises  from  the  public  uses  of  the 
institution,  and  the  authority  of  the  apostolic  practice,  the  mart' 
ner  of  observing  it  ought  to  be  that  which  best  fulfils  these  uses, 
and  conforms  the  nearest  to  this  practice. 

The  uses  proposed  by  the  institution  are  : 

1.  To  facilitate  attendance  upon  public  worship. 

2.  To  meliorate  the  condition  of  the  laborious  classes  of  man- 
kind, by  regular  and  seasonable  returns  of  rest. 

3.  By  a  general  suspension  of  business  and  amusement,  to  invite 
and  enable  persons  of  every  description  to  apply  their  time  and 
thoughts  to  subjects  appertaining  to  their  salvation. 

With  the  primitive  Christians  the  peculiar,  and  probably  for 
some  time  the  only  distinction  of  the  first  day  of  the  week  was 
the  holding  of  religious  assemblies  upon  that  day.  We  learn, 
however,  from  the  testimony  of  a  very  early  writer  amongst  them, 
that  they  also  reserved  the  day  for  religious  meditations:-*- 
Unusquisque  nostrum,  saith  Irenaeus,  sabbatizat  spiritualiter, 
medilatione  legis  gaudens,  opificium  Dei  admirans. 

Wherefore  the  duty  of  the  day  is  violated, 

1st.  By  all  such  employments  or  engagements  as  (though  dif- 
fering from  our  ordinary  occupations,)  hinder  our  attendance  upon 
public  worship,  or  take  up  so  much  of  our  time  as  not  to  leave 
a  sufficient  part  of  the  day  at  leisure,  for  religious  reflection ;  as 
the  going  of  journeys,  the  paying  or  receiving  of  visits,  which 
engage  the  whole  day,  or  employing  the  time  at  home  in  writing 
letters,  settling  accounts,  or  in  applying  ourselves  to  studies,  or 
the  reading  of  books,  which  bear  no  relation  to  the  business  of 
religion. 

2d\y.  By  unnecessary  encroachments  upon  the  rest  and  liberty 
which  Sunday  ought  to  bring  to  the  inferiour  orders  of  the  com- 
munity ;  as  by  keeping  servants  on  that  day  confined  and  husied 
in  preparations  for  the  superfluous  elegancies  of  our  table,  or 
dress. 


£54*  VIOLATION  Of  THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH. 

3dly.  By  such  recreations  as  are  customarily  forborne  out  of 
respect  to  the  day;  as  hunting,  shooting,  fishing,  public  diver- 
sions, frequenting  taverns,  playing  at  cards,  or  dice. 

If  it  be  asked,  as  it  often  has  been,  wherein  consists  the  differ- 
ence between  walking  out  with  your  staff,  or  with  your  gun  ?  be- 
tween spending  the  evening  at  home,  or  in  a  tavern  ?  between 
passing  the  Sunday  afternoon  at  a  game  at  cards,  or  in  conversa- 
tion not  more  edifying,  nor  always  so  inoffensive  ?  To  these,  and  to 
the  same  question  under  a  variety  of  forms,  and  in  a  multitude 
of  similar  examples,  we  return  the  following  answer: — That  the 
religious  observance  of  Sundaj ,  if  it  ought  to  be  retained  at  all, 
must  be  upholden  by  some  public  and  visible  distinctions — that, 
draw  the  line  of  distinction  where  you  will,  many  actions  which 
are  situated  on  the  confines  of  the  line,  will  differ  very  little,  and 
yet  lie  on  the  opposite  sides  of  it — that  every  trespass  upon  that 
reserve  which  public  decency  has  established,  breaks  down  the 
fence  by  which  the  day  is  separated  to  the  service  of  religion — 
that  it  is  unsafe  to  trifle  with  scruples  and  habits  that  have  a 
beneficial  tendency,  although  founded  merely  in  custom — that 
these  liberties,  "however  intended,  will  certainly  be  considered  by 
those  who  observe  them,  not  only  as  disrespectful  to  the  day  and 
institution,  but  as  proceeding  from  a  secret  contempt  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith — that,  consequently,  they  diminish  a  reverence  for  re- 
ligion in  others,  so  far  as  the  authority  of  our  opinion,  or  the 
efficacy  of  our  example  reaches  ;  or  rather,  so  far  as  either  will 
serve  for  an  excuse  of  negligence  to  those  who  are  glad  of  any— 
that  as  to  cards  and  dice,  which  put  in  their  claim  to  be  consid- 
ered among  the  harmless  occupations  of  a  vacant  hour,  it  may  be 
observed,  that  few  find  any  difficulty  in  refraining  from  play  on 
Sunday,  except  they  who  sit  down  to  it  with  the  views  and  eager- 
ness of  gamesters — that  gaming  is  seldom  innocent — that  the 
anxiety  and  pertubations,  however,  which  it  excites,  are  incon- 
sistent with  the  tranquility  and  frame  of  temper,  in  which  the 
duties  and  thoughts  of  religion  should  always  both  find  and  leave 
us — and  lastly,  we  shall  remark,  that  the  example  of  other  coun- 
tries, where  the  same  or  greater  license  is  allowed,  affords  no 
apology  for  irregularities  in  our  own  ;  because  a  practice  which 
is  tolerated  by  public  usage,  neither  receives  the  same  construc- 
tion, nor  gives  the  same  offence,  as  where  it  is  censured  and  pr«K 
hibited. 


OF  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY.  §5p 


CHAPTER  IX. 


OF  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY. 

IN  many  persons  a  seriousness,  and  sense  of  awe,  overspread 
the  imagination,  whenever  the  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being  is  pre- 
sented to  their  thoughts.  This  effect,  which  forms  a  considerable 
security  against  vice,  is  the  consequence  not  so  much  of  reflec- 
tion, as  of  habit;  which  habit  being  generated  by  the  external 
expressions  of  reverence,  which  we  use  ourselves,  or  observe  in 
others,  may  be  destroyed  hy  causes  opposite  to  these,  and 
especially  by  that  familiar  levity,  with  which  some  learn  to 
speak  of  the  Deity,  of  his  attributes,  providence,  revelations,  or 
worship. 

God  hath  been  pleased,  no  matter  for  what  reason,  although 
probably  for  this,  to  forbid  the  vain  mention  of  his  name — 
"  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in  vain." 
Now  the  mention  is  vain,  when  it  is  useless ;  and  it  is  useless, 
when  it  is  neither  likely,  nor  intended  to  serve  any  good  purpose; 
as  when  it  flows  from  the  lips  idle  and  unmeaning,  or  is  applied 
upon  occasions  inconsistent  with  any  consideration  of  religioa 
and  devotion,  to  express  our  anger,  our  earnestness,  our  courage, 
or  our  mirth  :  or  indeed,  when  it  is  used  at  all,  except  in  acts  of 
religion,  or  in  serious  and  seasonable*  discourse  upon  religious 
subjects. 

The  prohibition  of  the  third  commandment  is  recognized  by 
Christ,  in  his  sermon  upon  the  Mount,  which  sermon  adverts  to 
none  but  the  moral  parts  of  the  Jewish  law:  "  I  say  unto  you, 
Swear  not  at  all ;  but  let  your  communication  be  yea,  yea ;  nay, 
nay  ;  for  whatsoever  is  more  than  these,  cometh  of  evil."  The 
Jews  probably  interpreted  the  prohibition  as  restrained  to  the 
name  Jehovah,  the  name  which  the  Deity  had  appointed  and 
appropriated  to  himself.  Exod.  vi.  3.  The  words  of  Christ  ex- 
tended the  prohibition  beyond  the  name  of  God,  to  every  thing  asso- 
ciated with  the  idea.  "  Swear  not,  neither  by  heaven,  for  it  is 
God's  throne  ;  nor  by  the  earth,  for  it  is  his  footstool ;  neither 
by  Jerusalem,  for  it  is  the  city  of  the  Great  King.''  Matt.  v.  35, 


g50  OF  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY. 

The  offence  of  profane  swearing  is  aggravated  by  the  consid- 
eration, that  in  it  duty  and  deceucy  are  sacrificed  to  the  tenderest 
of  temptations.  Suppose  the  habit,  either  from  affectation,  or  by 
negligence  and  inadvertency,  to  be  already  formed,  it  must  al- 
ways remain  within  the  power  of  the  most  ordinary  resolution  to 
correct  it;  and  it  cannot,  one  would  think,  cost  a  great  deal  to 
relinquish  the  pleasure  and  honour  which  it  confers.  A  concern 
for  duty  is  in  fact  never  strong,  when  the  exertion  requisite  to 
vanquish  a  habit  founded  in  no  antecedent  propensity,  is  thought 
too  much,  or  too  painful. 

A  contempt  of  positive  duties,  or  rather  of  those  duties  for 
which  the  reason  is  not  so  plain  as  the  command,  indicates  a 
disposition  upon  which  the  authority  of  revelation  has  obtained 
little  influence.  This  remark'is  applicable  to  the  offence  of  pro- 
fane swearing,  and  describes,  perhaps,  pretty  exactly,  the  general 
character  of  those  who  are  most  addicted  to  it. 

Mockery  and  ridicule  when  exercised  upon  the  Scriptures,  or 
even  upon  the  places,  persons  and  forms,  set  apart  for  the  minis- 
tration of  religion,  fall  within  the  misebief  of  the  law  which 
forbids  the  profanation  of  God's  name;  especially  as  that  law  is 
extended  by  Christ's  interpretation.  They  are  moreover  incon- 
sistent with  a  religious  frame  of  mind  :  for,  as  no  one  ever  either 
feels  himself  disposed  to  pleasantry,  or  capable  of  being  diverted 
with  the  pleasantry  of  others,  upon  matters  in  which  he  is  deep- 
ly interested,  so  a  mind  intent  upon  the  acquisition  of  heaven, 
rejects  with  indignation  every  attempt  to  entertain  it  with  jests, 
calculated  to  degrade  or  deride  subjects,  which  it  never  recollects 
but  with  seriousness  and  anxiety.  Nothing  but  stupidity,  or  the 
most  frivolous  dissipation  of  thought  can  make  even  the  inconsid- 
erate forget  the  supreme  importance  of  every  thing  which  relates 
to  the  expectation  of  a  future  existence.  Whilst  the  intidel 
mocks  at  the  superstitions  of  the  vulgar,  insults  over  their  credu- 
lous fears,  their  childish  errours,  or  fantastic  rites,  it  does  not 
occur  to  him  to  observe,  that  the  most  preposterous  device  by 
which  the  weakest  devotee  ever  believed  he  was  securing  the 
happiness  of  a  future  life,  is  more  rational  than  unconcern  about 
it.  Upon  this  subject  nothing  is  so  absurd  as  indifference; — no 
folly  so  contemptible,  as  thoughtlessness  and  levity. 

Finally,  the  knowledge  of  what  is  due  to  the  solemnity  of  those 
interests,  concerning  which    revelation  professes  to  inform  and 


OF  REVERENCING  THE  DEITt.  %$% 

direct  os,  may  teach  even  those  who  are  least  inclined  to  respect 
the  prejudices  of  mankind,  to  observe  a  decorum   in  the  style 
and  conduct  of  religious  disquisitions,  with  the  neglect  of  which 
many  adversaries  of  Christianity  are  justly  chargeable.     Serious 
arguments  are  fair  on  all  sides.     Christianity  is  but  ill  defended 
by  refusing  audience  or  toleration  to  the  objections  of  unbelievers* 
But    whilst    we    would  have   freedom   of  inquiry   restrained  by 
no   laws,  but  those  of  decency,   we  are  entitled  to  demand,  oh 
behalf  of  a  religion  which  holds  forth  to  mankind  assurances  of 
immortality,  that  its  credit  be  assailed  by  no  other  weapons  than 
those  of  sober  discussion  and  legitimate  reasoning  :~that  the 
truth  or  falsehood  of  Christianity  be  never  made  a  topic  of  rail- 
lery, a  theme  for  the  exercise  of  wit  or  eloquence,  or  a  subject  of 
contention  for  literary  fame  and  victory  : — that  the  cause  be  tried 
upon  its  merits  : — that  all   applications  to  the  fancy,  passions? 
or  prejudices  of  the  reader,  all  attempts  to  pre-occupy,  ensnare., 
or  perplex   his  judgment,  by  any  art,  influence*  or  impression, 
whatsoever,  extrinsic  to  the  proper  grounds  and  evidence  upon 
which  his  assent  ought  to  proceed,  be  rejected  from  a  question, 
which  involves  in  its  determination,  the  hopes,  the  virtue,  and 
the  repose  of  millions  :— that  the  controversy  be  managed  on  both 
sides  with  sincerity  j  that  is,  that  nothing  be  produced,  in  the 
writings  of  either,  contrary    to,    or  beyond,    the    writer's    own 
knowledge  and  persuasion  : — that  objections  and  difficulties   be 
proposed  from  no  other  motive,  than  an  honest  and  serious  desire 
to  obtain  satisfaction,  or  to  communicate  information  which  may 
promote  the  discovery  and  progress  of  truth  : — that,  in  conformity 
with   this  design,   every  thing  be  stated   with    integrity,    with 
method,  precision,  and  simplicity;  and,  above  all,  that  whatever 
is  published  in  opposition  to  received   and  confessedly  beneficial 
persuasions,  be  set  forth  under  a  form  which  is  likely  to  invite 
inquiry,  and  to  meet  examination.     If  with   these  moderate  and 
equitable  conditions  be  compared  the  manner  in  which  hostilities 
have  been  waged  against  the  Christian  religion,  not  only  the 
votaries  of  the  prevailing  faith,  but  every  man   who   looks   for- 
ward with  anxiety  to  the  destination  of  his  being,  will  see  much 
to  blame  and  to  complain  of.     By  one  unbeliever,  all   the  follies 
which  have  adhered,  in  a  long  course  of  dark  and  superstitious 
ages,  to  the  popular  creed,  are  assumed  as  so  many  doctrines  of 
Christ  and  his  Apostles,  for  the  purpose  of  subverting  the  whole 
33 


35.8  OP  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY, 

system  by  the  absurdities  which  it  is  thus  represented  to  contain. 
By  another,  the  ignorance  and  vices  of  the  sacerdotal  order,  their 
mutual  dissensions  and  persecutions,  their  usurpations  and  en- 
croachments upon  the  intellectual  liberty  and  civil  rights  of  man- 
kind, have  been  displayed  with  no  small  triumph  and  invective ; 
not  so  much  to  guard  the  Christian  laity  against  a  repetition  of 
the  same  injuries,  (which  is  the  only  proper  ase  to  be  made  of 
the  most  flagrant  examples  of  the  past,)  as  to  prepare  the  way 
for  an  insinuation,  that  the  religion  itself  is  nothing  but  a  pro- 
fitable fable,  imposed  upon  the  fears  and  credulity  of  the  multi- 
tude, and  upheld  by  the  frauds  and  influence  of  an  interested 
and  crafty  priesthood.  And  yet,  how  remotely  is  the  character 
of  the  clergy  connected  with  the  truth  of  Christianity !  What, 
after  all,  does  the  most  disgraceful  pages  of  ecclesiastical  history 
prove,  but  that  the  passions  of  our  common  nature  are  not  alter- 
ed or  excluded  by  distinctions  of  name,  and  that  the  characters 
of  men  are  formed  much  more  by  the  temptations  than  the  duties 
of  their  profession  ?  A  third  finds  delight  in  collecting  aud 
repeating  accounts  of  wars  and  massacres,  of  tumults  aud  insur- 
rections, excited  in  almost  every  age  of  the  Christian  era  by 
religious  zeal ;  as  though  the  vices  of  Christians  were  parts  of 
Christianity  ;  intolerance  and  extirpation  precepts  of  the  gospel; 
or  as  if  its  spirit  could  be  judged  of  from  the  counsels  of  princes, 
the  intrigues  of  statesmen,  the  pretences  of  malice  and  ambition, 
or  the  unauthorized  cruelties  of  some  gloomy  and  virulent  super- 
stition. By  a  fourth,  the  succession  and  variety  of  popular 
religious ;  the  vicissitudes  with  which  sects  and  tenets  have 
flourished  and  decayed  ;  the  zeal  with  which  they  were  once 
supported,  the  negligence  with  which  they  are  now  remembered  ; 
the  little  share  which  reason  and  argument  appear  to  have 
had  in  framing  the  creed,  or  regulating  the  religious  conduct  of 
the  multitude ;  the  indifference  and  submission  with  which  the 
religion  of  the  state  is  generally  received  by  the  common  people  ; 
the  caprice  and  vehemence  with  which  it  is  sometimes  opposed  ; 
the  phrenzy  with  which  men  have  been  brought  to  contend  for 
opinions  and  ceremonies,  of  which  they  knew  neither  the  proof, 
the  meaning,  nor  the  original ;  lastly,  the  equal  and  undoubting 
confiden-e  with  which  we  hear  the  doctrines  of  Christ  or  of  Con- 
fucius, the  law  of  Moses  or  of  Mahomet,  the  Bible,  the  Koran, 
or  the  Shaster,  maintained  or  anathematized,  taught  or  abjured, 


OF  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY.  $59 

revered  or  derided,  according  as  we  Jive  on  thi*  or  on  that  side 
of  a  river;  keep  within  or  step  over  the  boundaries  of  a  state  ; 
or  even  in  the  same  country,  and  by  the  same  people,  so  often  as 
the  event  of  a  battle,  or  the  issue  of  a  negociation,  delivers  them 
to  the  dominion  of  a  new  master;  points,  I  say,  of  this  sort  are 
exhibited  to  the  public  attention,  as  so  many  arguments  against 
the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion — and  with  success.  For  these 
topics  being  brought  together,  and  set  off  with  some  aggrava- 
tion of  circumstances,  and  with  a  vivacity  of  style  and  descrip- 
tion familiar  enough  to  the  writings  and  conversation  of  free- 
thinkers, insensibly  lead  the  imagination  into  a  habit  of  classing 
Christianity  with  the  delusions  that  have  taken  possession,  by 
turns,  of  the  public  belief:  and  of  regarding  it,  as  what  the  scof- 
fers of  our  faith  represent  it  to  be,  the  superstition  of  the  day. 
But  is  this  to  deal  honestly  by  the  subject,  or  with  the  world  ? 
May  not  the  same  things  be  said,  may  not  the  same  prejudices 
be  excited  by  these  representations,  whether  Christianity  be  true 
or  false,  or  by  whatever  proofs  its  truth  be  attested  ?  May  not 
truth  as  well  as  falsehood  be  taken  upon  credit  ?  May  not  a  re- 
ligion be  founded  upon  evidence  accessible  and  satisfactory  to 
every  mind  competent  to  the  inquiry,  which  yet,  by  the  greatest 
part  of  its  professors,  is  received  upon  authority  ? 

But  if  the  matter  of  these  objections  be  reprehensible,  as  cal- 
culated to  produce  an  effect  upon  the  reader  beyond  what  their 
real  weight  and  place  in  the  argument  deserve,  still  more  shall 
we  discover  of  management  and  disingenuousness  in  the  form, 
under  which  they  are  dispersed  among  the  public.  Infidelity  is 
served  up  in  every  shape,  that  is  likely  to  allure,  surprise,  or 
beguile  the  imagination ;  in  a  fable,  a  tale,  a  novel,  a  poem ;  in 
interspersed  and  broken  hints  ;  remote  and  oblique  surmises  ;  in 
books  of  travels,  of  philosophy,  of  natural  history  ;  in  a  word,  in 
any  form  rather  than  the  right  one,  that  of  a  professed  and  regu- 
lar disquisition.  And  beeause  the  coarse  buffoonery,  and  broad 
laugh,  of  the  old  and  rude  adversaries  of  the  Christian  faith, 
would  offend  the  taste,  perhaps,  rather  than  the  virtue,  of  this 
cultivated  age,  a  graver  irony,  a  more  skilful  and  delicate  banter, 
is  substituted  in  their  plaee.  An  eloquent  historian,  beside  his 
more  direct,  and  therefore  fairer,  attacks  upon  the  credibility  of 
evangelic  story,  has  contrived  to  weave  into  his  narration  one 
continued  sneer  upoa  the  cause  of  Christianity,  and  upon  the 


gg^  OP  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY. 

writings  and  characters  of  its  ancient  patrons.  The  knowledge 
which  this  author  possesses  of  the  frame,  and  conduct  of  the 
human  mind,  must  have  led  him  to  observe,  that  such  attacks  do 
their  execution  without  inquiry.  Who  can  refute  a  sneer?  Who 
can  compute  the  number,  much  less  one  by  onp,  scrutinize  the 
justice,  of  those  disparaging  insinuations,  which  crowd  the  pages 
of  this  elaborate  history  ?  What  reader  suspends  his  curiosity, 
or  calls  off  his  attention  from  the  principal  narrative,  to  examine 
references,  to  search  into  the  foundation,  or  to  weigh  the  reason, 
propriety,  and  force  of  every  transient  sarcasm,  and  sly  allusion, 
hy  which  the  Christian  testimony  is  depreciated  and  traduced; 
and  by  which,  nevertheless,  he  may  find  his  persuasion  after- 
wards unsettled  and  perplexed  ? 

But  the  enemies  of  Christianity  have  pursued  her  with  poison- 
ed arrows.  Obscenity  itself  is  made  the  vehicle  of  infidelity. 
The  awful  doctrines,  if  we  be  not  permitted  to  call  them  the  sa- 
cred truths,  of  our  religion,  together  with  all  the  adjuncts  and 
appendages  of  its  worship  and  external  profession,  have  been 
sometimes  impudently  profaned  by  an  unnatural  conjunction  with 
impure  and  lascivious  images.  The  fondness  for  ridicule  is  al- 
jnost  universal ;  and  ridicule  to  many  minds  is  never  so  irresisti- 
hle  as  when  seasoned  with,  obscenity,  and  employed  upon  religion. 
But  in  proportion  as  these  noxious  principles  take  hold  of  the 
imagination,  they  infatuate  the  judgment ;  for  trains  of  ludicrous 
and  unchaste  associations  adhering  to  every  sentiment  and  men- 
tion of  religion,  render  the  mind  indisposed  to  receive  either  con- 
viction from  its  evideuce,  or  impressions  from  its  authority.  And 
this  effect  being  exerted  upon  the  sensitive  part  of  our  frame,  is 
altogether  independent  of  argument,  proof,  or  reason  ;  is  as  formi- 
dable to  a  true  religion  as  to  afal-eone;  to  a  well  grounded 
faith  as  to  a  chimerical  mythology,  or  fabulous  tradition.  Nei- 
ther, let  it  be  observed,  is  the  crime  or  danger  less,  because  im- 
pure ideas  are  exhibited  under  a  veil,  in  covert  and  chastised 
language. 

Seriousness  is  not  constraint  of  thought ;  nor  levity,  freedom. 
Every  mind  which  wishes  the  advancement  of  truth  and  knowl- 
edge, in  the  most  important  of  all  human  researches,  must  abhor 
this  licentiousness,  as  violating  no  less  the  laws  of  reasoning, 
than  the  rights  of  decency.  There  is  but  one  description  of  men, 
to  whose  principles  it  ought  to  be  tolerable ;  1  mean  that  claps 


OF  REVERENCING  THE  DEITY.  ggX 

of  reasoners  who  can  see  little  in  Christianity,  even  supposing  it 
to  be  true.  To  such  adversaries  we  address  this  reflection.— 
Had  Jesus  Christ  delivered  no  other  declaration  than  the  follow- 
ing :  "  The  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  the  grave 
shall  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth  ;  they  that  have  done 
good,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life,  and  they  that  have  done  evil, 
unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation,"  he  had- pronounced  a  mes- 
sage of  inestimable  importance,  and  well  worthy  of  that  splendid 
apparatus  of  prophecy  and  miracles  with  which  his  mission  was 
introduced,  and  attested;  a  message,  in  which  the  wisest  of  man- 
kind would  rejoice,  to  find  an  answer  to  their  doubts,  and  rest 
to  their  inquiries.  It  is  idle  to  say,  that  a  future  state  had  been 
discovered  already : — It  had  been  discovered,  as  the  Copernican 
system  was  ; — it  was  one  guess  among  many.  He  alone  dis- 
covers, who  proves  ;  and  no  man  can  prove  this  point,  but  the 
teacher  who  testifies  by  miracles  that  his  doctrine  comes  from 
CxotL 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


ELEMENTS  OF  POLITICAL  KNOWLEDGE 


CHAPTER  I. 

OF  THE  ORIGIN  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

GOVERNMENT,  at  first,  was  either  patriarchal  or  military  i 
that  of  a  parent  over  his  family,  or  of  a  commander  over  his  fel- 
low warriours. 

L  Paternal  authority,  and  the  order  of  domestic  life,  supplied 
the  foundation  of  civil  government.  Did  mankind  spring  out  of 
the  earth  mature  and  independent,  it  would  be  found  perhaps  im- 
possible, to  introduce  subjection  and  subordination  among  them  ; 
but  the  condition  of  human  infancy  prepares  men  for  society,  by 
aombining  individuals  into  small  communities,  and  by  placing 
them  from  the  beginning  under  direction  and  control.  A  family, 
oontains  the  rudiments  of  an  empire.  The  authority  of  one  over 
many,  and  the  disposition  to  govern  and  to  be  governed,  are  in 
this  way  incidental  to  the  very  nature,  and  coeval  no  doubt  with 
the  existence,  of  the  human  species. 

Moreover,  the  constitution  of  families  not  only  assists  the  form- 
ation of  civil  government,  by  the  dispositions  which  it  generate^ 


ORIGIN  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT,  ggg 

but  also  furnishes  the  first  steps  of  the  process  by  which  empires 
have  been  actually  reared.  A  parent  would  retain  a  considerable 
part  of  his  authority  after  his  children  were  grown  up,  and  had 
formed  families  of  their  own.  The  obedience,  of  which  they  re- 
membered not  the  beginning,  would  be  considered  as  natural; 
and  would  scarcely,  during  the  parent's  life,  be  entirely  or  ab- 
ruptly withdrawn.  Here  then  we  see  the  second  stage  in  the 
progress  of  dominion.  The  first  was,  that  of  a  parent  over  his 
young  children  :  this,  that  of  an  ancestor  presiding  over  his  adult 
descendants. 

Although   the  original  progenitor  was  the  centre  of  the  union 
to  his  posterity,  yet  it  is  not  probable  that  the  association  would 
be  immediately  or  altogether  dissolved  by  his  death.     Connected 
by  habits  of  intercourse  and  affection,  and  by  some  common  rights, 
necessities,    and  interests,   they  would  consider    themselves   as! 
allied  to  each  other  in  a  nearer  degree,  than  to  the  rest  of  the 
gpecies.     Almost  all  would  be  sensible  of  an  inclination  to  con- 
tinue in  the  society,  in  which  they  had  been  brought  up  ;  and  ex- 
periencing, as  they  soon  would  do,  many  inconveniences  from  the 
absence  of  that  authority,  which  their  common  ancestor  exercised, 
especially  in  decidiug  their  disputes,  and  directing  their  opera- 
tions in  matters,  in  which  it  was  necessary  to  act  in  conjunction, 
they  might  be  induced  to  supply  his  place  by  a  formal  choice  of  a 
successor ;  or  rather  might  willingly,  and  almost  imperceptibly 
transfer  their  obedience  to  some  one  of  the  family,  who  by  his 
age  or  services,  or  by  the  part  he  possessed  in  the  direction  of 
their  affairs  daring  the  lifetime  of  the  parent,  had  already  taught 
them  to  respect  his  advice,  or  to  attend  to  his  commands ;  or  lastly, 
the  prospect  of  these  inconveniences  might  prompt  the  first  an- 
cestor to  appoint  a  successor;  and  his  posterity,  from  the  same 
motive,  united  with  an  habitual  deference  to  the  ancestor's  au- 
thority, might  receive  the  appointment  with  submission.     Here 
then  we  have  a  tribe  or  clan  incorporated  under  one  chief.     Such 
communities  might  be  increased  by  considerable  numbers,  and 
fulfil  the  purposes  of  civil  union  without  any  other  or  more  regular 
convention,  constitution  or  form  of  government,  than  what  we  have 
described.     Every  branch  which  was  slipped  off  from  the  primi- 
tive stock,  and  removed  to  a  distance  from  it,  would  in  like  man- 
ner take  root,  and  grow  into  a  separate  clan.  Two  or  three  of  these 
clans  were  frequently,  we  may  suppose,  united  into  one.     Mar- 


%$4}  ORIGIN  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

riage,  conquest,  mutual  defence,  common  distress,  or  more  acci- 
dental coalitions,  might  produce  this  effect. 

II.  A  second  source  of  personal  authority,  and  which  might 
easily  extend,  or  sometimes  perhaps  supersede,  the  patriarchal,  is 
that  which  results  from  military  arrangement.  In  wars,  either 
of  aggression  or  defence,  manifest  necessity  would  prompt  those 
who  fought  on  the  same  side  to  array  themselves  under  one  leader. 
And  although  their  leader  was  advanced  to  this  eminence  for  the 
purpose  only,  and  during  the  operations  of  a  single  expedition, 
yet  his  authority  would  not  always  terminate,  with  the  reasons 
for  which  it  was  conferred.  A  warrionr  who  had  led  forth  his 
tribe  against  their  enemies  with  repeated  success,  would  procure 
to  himself,  eren  in  the  deliberations  of  peace,  a  powerful  and 
permanent  influence.  If  this  advantage  were  added  to  the  au- 
thority of  the  patriarchal  chief,  or  favoured  by  any  previous  dis- 
tinction of  ancestry,  it  would  be  no  difficult  undertaking  for  the 
person  who  possessed  it,  to  obtain  the  almost  absolute  direction 
of  the  affairs  of  the  community;  especially  if  he  was  careful  to 
associate  to  himself  proper  auxiliaries,  and  content  to  practise 
the  obvious  art  of  gratifying,  or  removing  those  who  opposed  his 
pretensions. 

But  although  we  may  be  able  to  comprehend,  how  by  his  per- 
sonal abilities  or  fortune  one  man  may  obtain  the  rule  over  many, 
yet  it  seems  more  difficult  to  explain  how  empire  became  heredi- 
tary, or  in  what  manner  sovereign  power,  which  is  never  acquired 
without  great  merit  or  management,  learns  to  descend  in  a  suc- 
cession which  has  no  dependence  upon  any  qualities,  either  of 
understanding  or  activity.  The  causes  which  have  introduced 
hereditary  dominion  into  so  general  a  reception  in  the  world,  are 
principally  the  following: — the  influence  of  association,  which 
communicates  to  the  son  a  portion  of  the  same  respect,  which 
was  wont  to  be  paid  to  the  virtues  or  station  of  the  father;  the 
mutual  jealousy  of  other  competitors  ;  the  greater  envy  with  which 
all  behold  the  exaltation  of  an  equal,  than  the  continuance  of  an 
acknowledged  superiority;  a  reigning  prince  leaving  behind  him 
many  adherents,  who  can  preserve  their  own  importance  only  by 
supporting  the  succession  of  his  children  :  add  to  these  reasons, 
that  elections  to  the  supreme  power  having  upon  trial,  produced 
destructive  contentions,  many  states  would  take  refuge  from  a 
return  of  the  same  calamities  in  a  rule  of  succession;  and  no  rul» 


ORIGIN  OP  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT.  g6g 

presents  itself  so  obvious,  certain  and  intelligible,  as  consanguin- 
ity of  birth. 

The  ancient  state  of  society  in  most  countries,  and  the  modern 
condition  of  some  uncivilized  parts  of  the  world,  exhibit  that  ap- 
pearance which  this  account  of  the  origin  of  civil  government 
would  lead  us  to  expect.  The  earliest  histories  of  Palestine, 
Greece,  Italy,  Gaul,  Britain,  inform  us,  that  these  countries  were 
occupied  by  many  small  independent  nations,  not  much  perhaps 
unlike  those  which  are  found  at  present  amongst  the  savage  inhabi- 
tants of  North-America,  and  upon  the  coast  of  Africa.  These 
nations  I  consider,  as  the  amplifications  of  so  many  single  fami- 
lies 5  or  as  derived  from  the  junction  of  two  or  three  families, 
whom  society  in  war,  or  the  approach  of  some  common  danger, 
had  united.  Suppose  a  country  to  have  been  first,  peopled  by 
shipwreck  on  its  coasts,  or  by  emigrants,  or  exiles  from  a  neigh- 
bouring country  ;  the  new  settlers,  having  no  enemy  to  provide 
against,  and  occupied  with  the  care  of  their  personal  subsistence, 
would  think  little  of  digesting  a  system  of  laws,  of  contriving  a 
form  of  government,  or  indeed  of  any  political  union  whatever ; 
but  each  settler  would  remain  at  the  head  of  his  own  family,  and 
each  family  would  include  all  of  every  age  and  generation,  who 
were  descended  from  him.  So  many  of  these  families,  as  were 
holden  together  after  the  death  of  the  original  ancestor,  by  the 
reasons  and  in  the  method  above  recited,  would  wax,  as  the  in- 
dividuals were  multiplied,  into  tribes,  clans,  hordes,  or  nations, 
similar  to  those  into  which  the  aucient  inhabitants  of  many  Coun- 
tries, are  known  to  have  been  divided,  and  which  are  still  found 
wherever  the  state  of  society,  and  manners  is  immature  and  un- 
cultivated. 

Nor  need  we  be  surprised  at  the  early  existence  in  the  world 
of  some  vast  empires,  or  at  the  rapidity  with  which  they  advanced, 
to  their  greatness,  from  comparatively  small  and  obscure  origi- 
nals. "Whilst  the  inhabitants  of  so  many  countries,  were  broken 
into  numerous  communities,  unconnected,  and  oftentimes  contend- 
ing with  each  other;  before  experience  had  taught  these  little 
states,  to  see  their  own  danger  in  their  neighbour's  ruin  ;  or  had 
instructed  them  in  the  necessity  of  resisting  the  aggrandizement 
of  an  aspiring  power,  by  alliances,  and  timely  preparations  ;  in 
this  condition  of  civil  policy,  a  particular  tribe,  which  by  any 
means  had  gotten  the  start  of  the  rest  in  strength  or  discipline, 
34 


s>66  SUBJECTION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

and  happened  to  fall  under  the  conduct  of  an  ambitious  chief,  \rr 
directing  their  first  attempts  to  the  part  where  success  was  most- 
secure,  and  by  assuming,  as  they  went  along,  those  whom  they 
conquered,  into  a  share  of  their  future  enterprizes,  might  soou 
gather  a  force,  which  would  infallibly  overbear  any  opposition 
that  the  scattered  power  and  unprovided  state  of  such  enemies 
could  make  to  the  progress  of  their  victories. 

Lastly,  our  theory  affords  a  presumption,  that  the  earliest  gov- 
ernments were  monarchies,  because  the  government  of  families, 
and  of  armies,  from  which,  according  to  our  account,  civil  govern- 
ment derived  its  institution,  and  probably  its  form,  is  universally 
monarchical. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HOW  SUBJECTION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT  IS  MAINTAINED. 

COULD  we  view  our  own  species  from  a  distance,  or  regard 
mankind  with  the  same  sort  of  observation  with  which  we  read 
the  natural  history,  or  remark  the  manners,  of  any  other  animal, 
there  is  nothing  in  the  human  character  which  would  more  sur- 
prise us,  than  the  almost  universal  subjugation  of  strength  to 
weakness  ; — than  to  see  many  millions  of  robust  men,  in  the  com- 
plete use  and  exercise  of  their  personal  faculties,  and  without 
any  defect  of  courage,  waiting  upon  the  will  of  a  child,  a  woman, 
a  driveller,  or  a  lunatick.  And  although,  when  we  suppose  a 
vast  empire  in  absolute  subjection  to  one  person,  and  that  one 
depressed  beneath  the  level  of  his  species  by  infirmities,  or  vice, 
we  suppose  perhaps  an  extreme  case;  yet  in  all  cases  even  in  the 
most  popular  forms  of  civil  government,  the  physical  strength 
resides  in  the  governed.  In  what  manner  opinion  thus  prevails 
over  strength,  or  how  power,  which  naturally  belongs  to  superiour 
force  is  maintained  in  opposition  to  it ;  in  other  words,  by  what 
motives  the  many  are  induced  to  submit  to  the  few,  becomes  an 
inquiry  which  lies  at  the  root  of  almost  every  political  specula- 
tion. It  removes,  indeed,  but  does  not  resolve  the  difficulty,  to 
say  that  civil  governments  are  now-a-days  almost  universally 


SUBJECTION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT.  %Qj 

wpholden  by  standing  armies;  for  the  question  still  returns,  How 
are  these  armies  themselves  kept  in  subjection,  or  made  to  obey 
the  commands,  and  carry  on  the  designs,  of  the  prince  or  state 
which  employs  them  ? 

Now,  although  we  should  look  in  vain  for  any  single  reason 
which  will  account  for  the  general  submission  of  mankind  to 
civil  government,  yet  it  may  not  be  difficult  to  assign  for  every 
class  and  character  in  the  community,  considerations  powerful 
enough  to  dissuade  each  from  any  attempts  to  resist  established 
authority.  Every  man  has  his  motive,  though  not  the  same. 
In  this,  as  in  other  instances,  the  conduct  is  similar,  but  the 
principles  which  produce  it  extremely  various. 

There  are  three  distinctions  of  character,  into  which  the  sub- 
jects of  a  state  may  be  divided  :  into  those  who  obey  from  preju- 
dice; those  who  obey  from  reason;  and  those  who  obey  from 
self-interest, 

I.  They  who  obey  from  prejudice  are  determined  by  an  opinion 
of  right  in  their  governours ;  which  opinion  is  founded  upon 
prescription.  In  monarchies  and  aristocracies  which  are  heredi- 
tary, the  prescription  operates  in  favour  of  particular  families  : 
in  republics  and  elective  offices,  in  favour  of  particular  forms  of 
government,  or  constitutions.  Nor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  that 
mankind  should  reverence  authority  founded  in  prescription, 
when  they  observe  that  it  is  prescription  which  confers  the  title 
to  almost  every  thing  else.  The  whole  course,  and  all  the  habits 
of  civil  life,  favour  this  prejudice.  Upon  what  other  foundation 
stands  any  man's  right  to  his  estate  ?  The  right  of  primogeni- 
ture, the  succession  of  kindred,  the  descent  of  property,  the  inher- 
itance of  honours,  the  demand  of  tithes,  tolls,  rents,  or  services 
from  the  estates  of  others,  the  right  of  way,  the  powers  of  offiee 
and  magistracy,  the  privileges  of  nobility,  the  immunities  of  the 
clergy,  upon  what  are  they  all  founded,  in  the  apprehension  at 
least  of  the  multitude,  but  upon  prescription  ?  To  what  else,  when 
the  claims  are  contested,  is  the  appeal  made  ?  It  is  natural  to 
transfer  the  same  principle  to  the  affairs  of  government,  and  to 
regard  these  exertions  of  power,  which  have  been  long  exercised 
and  acquiesced  in,  as  so  many  rights  in  the  sovereign;  and  to 
consider  obedience  to  his  commands,  within  certain  accustomed 
limits,  as  enjoined  by  that  rule  of  conscience,  which  requires  us 
to  render  to  everv  man  his  due. 


ggg  SUBJECTION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

In  hereditary  monarchies,  the  prescriptive  title  is  corroborated, 
and  its  influence  considerably  augmented,  by  an  accession  of  re- 
ligious sentiments,  and  by  that  sacredness  which  men  are  wont 
to  ascribe  to  the  persons  of  princes.  Princes  themselves  have 
not  failed  to  take  advantage  of  this  disposition,  by  claiming  a 
superiour  dignity,  as  it  were,  of  nature,  or  a  peculiar  delegation 
from  the  Supreme  Being.  For  this  purpose  were  introduced  the 
titles  of  sacred  majesty,  of  God's  anointed,  representative,  vice- 
gerent, together  with  the  ceremonies  of  investitures  and  corona- 
tions, which  are  calculated  not  so  much  to  recognize  the  authority 
of  sovereigns,  as  to  consecrate  their  persons.  Where  a  fabulous 
religion  permitted  it,  the  public  veneration  has  been  challenged 
by  bolder  pretensions.  The  Roman  Emperors  usurped  the  titles 
and  arrogated  the  worship  of  gods.  The  mythology  of  the  heroic 
ages,  and  of  many  barbarous  nations,  was  easily  converted  to 
this  purpose.  Some  princes,  like  the  heroes  of  Homer,  and  the 
founder  of  the  Roman  name,  derived  their  birth  from  the  gods  : 
others,  with  Numa,  pretended  a  secret  communication  with  some 
divine  being :  and  others  again,  like  the  Incas  of  Peru,  and  the 
ancient  Saxon  kings,  extracted  their  descent  from  the  deities  of 
their  country.  The  Lama  of  Thibet,  at  this  day,  is  held  forth  to 
his  subjects,  not  as  the  offspring  or  successor  of  a  divine  race  of 
princes,  but  as  the  immortal  God  himself,  the  object  at  once  of 
civil  obedience  and  religious  adoration.  This  instance  is  singu- 
lar, and  may  be  accounted  the  farthest  point  to  which  the  abuse 
of  human  credulity  has  ever  been  carried.  But  in  all  these  in- 
stances the  purpose  was  the  same, — to  engage  the  reverence  of 
mankind,  by  an  application  to  their  religious  principles. 

The  reader  will  be  careful  to  observe,  that  in  this  article  we 
denominate  every  opinion,  whether  true  or  false,  a  prejudice, 
which  is  not  founded  upon  argument,  in  the  mind  of  the  person 
who  entertains  it. 

II.  They  who  obey  from  reason,  that  is  to  say,  from  conscience 
as  instructed  by  reasonings  and  conclusions  of  their  own,  are  de- 
termined by  the  consideration  of  the  necessity  of  some  govern- 
ment or  other ;  the  certain  mischief  of  civil  commotions ;  and 
the  danger  of  resettling  the  government  of  their  country  better, 
or  at  all,  if  once  subverted  or  disturbed. 

III.  They  who  obey  from  self-interest,  are  kept  in  order  by 
want  of  leisure ;  by  a  succession  of  private  cares,  pleasures,  and 


SUBJECTION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT.  ggg 

engagements ;  by  contentment,  or  a  sense  of  the  ease,  plenty,  and 
safety  which  they  enjoy ;  or  lastly,  and  principally,  by  fear,  fore- 
seeing that  they  would  bring  themselves  by  resistance  into  a 
worse  situation  than  their  present,  inasmuch  as  the  strength  of 
government,  each  discontented  subject  reflects,  is  greater  than 
his  own,  and  he  knows  not  that  others  would  join  him. 

This  last  consideration  has  often  been  called  opinion  of  power* 
This  account  of  the  principles  by  which  mankind  are  retained 
in  their  obedience  to  civil  government,  may  suggest  the  follow- 
ing cautions : 

1.  Let  civil  goveruours  learn  hence  to  respect  their  subjects  ; 
let  them  be  admonished,  that  the  physical  strength  resides  in  the 
governed  ;  that  this  strength  wants  only  to  be  felt  and  roused,  to 
lay  prostrate,  the  most  ancient  and  confirmed  dominion  ;  that  civil 
authority  is  founded  in  opiuion  ;  that  general  opinion  therefore 
ought  always  lo  be  treated  with  deference,  and  managed  with 
delicacy  aud  circumspection. 

2.  Opinion  of  right,  always  following  the  custom,  being  for  the 
most  part  founded  in  nothing  else,  and  lending  one  principal 
support  to  government,  every  innovation  in  the  constitution,  or 
in  other  words,  in  the  custom  of  governing,  diminishes  the  sta- 
bility of  government.  Hence  some  absurdities  are  to  be  retained, 
and  many  small  inconveniences  endured  in  every  country,  rather 
than  that  the  usage  should  be  violated,  or  the  course  of  public 
affairs  diverted  from  their  old  and  smooth  channel.  Even  names 
are  not  indifferent.  When  the  multitude  are  to  be  dealt  wit!), 
there  is  a  charm  in  sounds.  It  was  upon  this  principle,  that 
several  statesmen  of  those  times  advised  Cromwell  to  assume 
the  title  of  king,  together  with  the  ancient  style  and  insignia  of 
royalty.  The  minds  of  many,  they  contended,  would  be  brought  to 
acquiesce  in  the  authority  of  a  King,  who  suspected  the  office, 
and  were  offended  with  the  administration,  of  a  Protector.  Novel- 
ty reminded  them  of  usurpation.  The  adversaries  of  this  design 
opposed  the  measure,  from  the  same  persuasion,  of  the  efficacy  of 
names  and  forms,  jealous  lest  the  veneration  paid  to  these,  should 
add  an  influence  to  the  new  settlement,  which  might  ensnare  the 
liberty  of  the  commonwealth. 

3.  Government  may  be  too  secure.  The  greatest  tyrants  have 
been  those,  whose  titles  were  the  most  unquestioned.  Whenever 
therefore  the  opinion  of  right  becomes  too  predominant  and  super- 


g^Q  SUBJECTION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

stitious,  it  is  abated  by  breaking  the  custom.  Thus  the  Revolu- 
tiou  broke  the  custom  of  succession,  and  thereby  moderated,  both 
in  the  prince  and  in  the  people,  those  lofty  notions  of  hereditary 
right,  which  in  the  one  were  become  a  continual  incentive  to 
tyranny,  and  disposed  the  other  to  invite  servitude,  by  undue 
compliances  and  dangerous  concessions. 

4.  As  ignorance  of  union,  and  want  of  communication,  appear 
amongst  the  principal  preservatives  of  the  authority,  it  behoves 
every  state  to  keep  its  subjects  in  this  want  and  ignorauce,  not 
only  by  vigilance  in  guarding  against  actual  confederacies  and 
combinations,  but  by  a  timely  care  to  prevent  great  collections  of 
men,  of  any  separate  party  of  religion,  or  of  like  occupation  or 
profession,  or  in  any  way  connected  by  a  participation  of  inter- 
est or  passion,  from  being  assembled  in  the  same  vicinity.  A 
Protestant  establishment  in  this  country,  may  have  little  to  fear 
from  its  Popish  subjects,  scattered  as  they  are  throughout  the 
kingdom,  and  intermixed  with  the  Protestant  inhabitants,  which 
yet  might  think  them  a  formidable  body,  if  they  were  gathered 
together  into  one  country.  The  most  frequent  and  desperate 
riots  are  those,  which  break  out  among  men  of  the  same  profes- 
sion, as  weavers,  miners,  sailors.  This  circumstance  makes  a 
mutiny  of  soldiers  more  to  be  dreaded  than  any  other  insurrec- 
tion. Hence  also  one  danger  of  an  overgrown  metropolis,  and  of 
those  great  cities  and  crowded  districts,  into  which  the  inhabi- 
tants of  trading  countries  are  commonly  collected.  The  worst 
effect  of  popular  tumults  consists  in  this,  that  they  discover  to 
the  insurgents  the  secret  of  their  own  strength,  teach  them  to  de- 
pend upon  it  against  a  future  occasion,  and  both  produce  and 
diffuse  sentiments  of  confidence  in  one  another,  and  assurances  of 
mutual  support.  Leagues  thus  formed  and  strengthened,  may 
overawe  or  overset  the  power  of  any  state ;  and  the  danger  is 
greater  in  proportion  as,  from  the  propinquity  of  habitation  ami 
intercourse  of  employment,  the  passions  and  counsels  of  a  party 
can  be  circulated  with  ease  and  rapidity.  It  is  by  these  means, 
and  in  such  situations,  that  the  minds  of  men  are  so  affected  and 
prepared,  that  the  most  dreadful  uproars  often  arise  from  the 
slightest  provocations. — When  the  train  is  laid,  a  spark  will 
produce  the  explosion. 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED!,  %Jl 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  DUTY  OP  SUBMISSION  TO  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT  EXPLAINED. 


THE  subject  of  this  chapter  is  sufficiently  distinguished  from 
the  subject  of  the  last,  as  the  motives  which  actually  produce 
civit  obedience  may  be,  and  often  are,  very  different  from  the 
reasons  which  make  that  obedience  a  duty. 

In  order  to  prove  civil  obedience  to  be  a  moral  duty,  and  an 
obligation  upon  the  conscience,  it  hath  been  usual  with  many 
political  writers,  at  the  head  of  whom  we  find  the  venerable  name 
of  Locke,  to  state  a  compact  between  the  citizen  and  the  state,  as 
the  ground  and  cause  of  the  relation  between  them ;  which  com- 
pact binding  the  parties  for  the  same  general  reason,  that  private 
contracts  do,  resolves  the  duty  of  submission  to  civil  government 
into  the  universal  obligation  of  fidelity  in  the  performance  of 
promises.     This  compact  is  two-fold. 

First,  An  express  compact  by  the  primitive  founders  of  the 
state,  who  are  supposed  to  have  convened  for  the  declared  pur- 
pose of  settling  the  terms  of  their  political  union,  and  a  future 
constitution  of  government.  The  whole  body  is  supposed,  in  the 
first  place,  to  have  unanimously  consented  to  be  bound  by  the 
resolutions  of  the  majority ;  that  majority,  in  the  next  place,  to 
have  fixed  certain  fundamental  regulations ;  and  then  to  have 
constituted,  either  in  one  person,  or  in  an  assembly,  (the  rule  of 
succession  or  appointment  being  at  the  same  time  determined,)  a 
standing  legislature,  to  whom,  under  these  pre-established  restric- 
tions, the  government  of  the  state  was  thenceforward  committed, 
and  whose  laws  the  several  members  of  the  convention  were,  by 
their  first  undertaking,  thus  personally  engaged  to  obey. — This 
transaction  is  sometimes  called  the  social  compact,  and  these  sup- 
posed original  regulations  compose  what  are  meant  by  the  con- 
stitution, the  fundamental  laws  of  the  constitution  ;  and  form,  on 
one  side,  the  inherent,  indefeasible  prerogative  of  the  crown;  and, 
on  the  other,  the  unalienable,  imprescriptible  birth-right  of  the 
subject. 


gyg  DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED. 

Secondly,  A  tacit  or  implied  compact,  by  all  succeeding  mem- 
bers of  the  state,  who,  by  accepting  its  protection,  consent  to  be 
bound  by  its  laws ;  in  like  manner,  as  whoever  voluntarily  enters 
into  a  private  society  is  understood,  without  any  other  or  more 
explicit  stipulation,  to  promise  a  conformity  with  the  rules  and 
obedience  to  the  government  of  that  society,  as  the  known  con- 
ditions upon  which  he  is  admitted  to  a  participation  of  its  privi- 
leges. 

This  account  of  the  subject,  although  specious,  and  patronized 
by  names  the  most  respectable,  appears  to  labour  under  the  fol- 
lowing objections ;  that  it  is  founded  upon  a  supposition  false  in 
fact,  and  leading  to  dangerous  conclusions. 

No  social  compact,  similar  to  what  is  here  described,  was 
ever  made  or  entered  into  in  reality  ;  no  such  original  convention 
of  the  people  was  ever  actually  holden,  or  in  any  country  could 
be  holden,  antecedent  to  the  existence  of  civil  government  in  that 
country.  It  is  to  suppose  it  possible  to  call  savages  out  of  caves 
and  deserts,  to  deliberate  and  vote  upon  topics,  which  the  ex- 
perience, and  studies,  and  refinements  of  civil  life  alone  suggest. 
Therefore  no  government  in  the  universe  began  from  this  original. 
Some  imitation  of  a  social  compact  may  have  taken  place  at  a 
revolution.  The  present  age  has  been  witness  to  a  transaction, 
which  bears  the  nearest  resemblance  to  this  political  idea,  of  any 
of  which  history  has  preserved  the  account  or  memory.  I  refer 
to  the  establishment  of  the  United  States  of  North-America. 
We  saw  the  people  assembled  to  elect  deputies,  for  the  avowed 
purpose  of  framing  the  constitution  of  a  new  empire.  We  saw 
this  deputation  of  the  people  deliberating  and  resolving  upon  a 
form  of  government,  erecting  a  permanent  legislature,  distributing 
the  functions  of  sovereignty,  establishing  and  promulgating  a 
code  of  fundamental  ordinances,  which  were  to  be  considered  by 
succeeding  generations,  not  merely  as  laws  and  acts  of  the  state, 
but  as  the  very  terms  and  conditions  of  the  confederation ;  as 
binding  not  only  upon  the  subjects  and  magistrates  of  the  state, 
but  as  limitations  of  power,  which  were  to  control  and  regulate 
the  future  legislature.  Yet  even  here  much  was  presupposed. 
In  settling  the  constitution,  many  important  parts  were  presumed 
to  be  already  settled.  The  qualifications  of  the  constituents 
who  were  admitted  to  vote  in  the  election  of  members  of  congress, 
as  well  as  the  mode  of  electing  the  representatives,  were  taken 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED. 


373 


From  the  old  forms  of  government.  That  was  wanting,  from 
which  every  social  uuion  should  set  off,  and  which  alone  makes 
the  resolutions  of  the  society  the  act  of  the  individual, — the 
unconstrained  consent  of  all  to  be  bound  by  the  decision  of  the 
majority ;  and  yet,  without  this  previous  consent,  the  revolt,  and 
the  regulations  which  followed  it,  were  compulsory  upon  dis- 
sentients. 

But  the  original  compact,  we  are  told,  is  not  proposed  as  a 
fact,  but  as  a  fiction,  which  furnishes  a  commodious  explication 
of  the  mutual  rights  and  duties  of  sovereigns  and  subjects.  In 
answer  to  this  representation  of  the  matter,  we  observe,  that  the 
original  compact,  if  it  be  not  a  fact,  is  nothing;  can  confer  no 
actual  authority  upon  laws  or  magistrates  ;  nor  afford  any  found- 
ation to  rights,  which  are  supposed  to  be  real  and  existing.  But 
the  truth  is,  that  in  the  books,  and  in  the  apprehension,  of  those 
who  deduce  our  civil  rights  and  obligations  a  pactis,  the  original 
convention  is  appealed  to  and  treated  of  as  areality.  Whenever 
the  disciples  of  this  system  speak  of  the  constitution ;  of  the 
fundamental  articles  of  the  constitution  ;  of  laws  being  constitu- 
tional or  unconstitutional ;  of  inherent,  unalienable,  inextinguish- 
able rights,  either  in  the  prince,  or  in  the  people ;  or  indeed  of 
any  laws,  usages,  or  civil  rights,  as  transcending  the  authority  of 
the  subsisting  legislature,  or  possessing  a  force  and  sanction 
superiour  to  what  belong  to  the  modern  acts  and  edicts  of  the 
legislature,  they  secretly  refer  us  to  what  passed  at  the  original 
convention.  They  would  teach  us  to  believe,  that  certain  rules 
and  ordinances  were  established  by  the  people,  at  the  same  time 
that  they  settled  the  charter  of  government,  and  the  powers  as 
well  as  the  form  of  the  future  legislature;  that  this  legislature 
consequently,  deriving  its  commission  and  existence  from  the 
consent  and  act  of  the  primitive  assembly  (of  which  indeed  it  is 
only  the  standing  deputation,)  continues  subject,  in  the  exercise 
of  its  offices,  and  as  to  the  extent  of  its  power,  to  the  rules,  re- 
servations, and  limitations  which  the  same  assembly  then  made 
and  prescribed  to  it. 

"  As  the  first  members  of  the  state  were  bound  by  express 
stipulation  to  obey  the  government  which  they  had  erected,  so 
the  succeeding  inhabitants  of  the  same  country  are  understood  to 
promise  allegiance  to  the  constitution  and  government  they  find 
established,  by  accepting  its  protection,  claiming  its  privileges, 
35 


374*  DUTY  OP  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED. 

and  acquiescing  in  its  laws  ;  more  especially,  by  the  purchase  or 
inheritance  of  lands,  to  the  possession   of  which,  allegiance  to 
the  state  is  annexed,  as   the  very  service  and  condition  of  the 
tenure.''     Smoothly  as  this  train  of  argument  proceeds,  little  of 
it  will  endure  examination.     The  native  subjects  of  modern  states 
are  not  conscious  of  any  stipulation  with   their  sovereigns,  of 
ever  exercising  an  election  whether  they  will  be  bound  or  not  by 
the  acts  of  the  legislature,  of  any  alternative  being  proposed  to 
their  choice,  of  a  promise  eitber  required  or  given  ;  nor  do  they 
apprehend  that  the  validity  or  authority  of  the  laws  depends  at 
all  upon  their  recognition  or  consent.     In  all  stipulations,  whether 
they  be  expressed  or  implied,  private  or  publie,  formal  or  con- 
structive, the  parties  stipulating  must  both  possess  the  liberty  of 
assent  and  refusal,  and  also  be  conscious  of  this  liberty ;  which 
cannot  with  truth  be  affirmed  of  the  subjects  of  civil  government, 
as  government  is  now,  or  ever  was,  actually  administered.     This 
is  a  defect,  which  no  arguments  can  excuse  or  supply  :  all  pre- 
sumptions of  consent,  without  this  consciousness,  or  in  opposition 
to  it,  are  vain  and  erroneous.     Still  less  is  it  possible  to  reconcile 
with  any  idea  of  stipulation  the  practice,  in  which  all  European 
nations  agree,  of  founding  allegiance  upon  the   circumstance   of 
nativity,  that  is,  of  claiming  and  treating  as  subjects  all  those 
who  are  born  within  the   confines   of  their  dominions,   although 
removed  to  another  country  in  their  youth  or  infancy.     In  this 
instance  certainly  the  state  does  not  presume  a  compact.     Also 
if  the  subject  be  bound  only  by  his  own  consent,  and  if  the  volun- 
tary abiding  in  the  country  be  the  proof  and  intimation  of  that 
consent,  by  what  arguments  should  we  defend   the  right,  which 
sovereigns  universally  assume,  of  prohibiting,  when  they  please, 
the  departure  of  their  subjects  out  of  the  realm  ? 

Again,  when  it  is  contended  that  the  taking  and  holding  pos- 
session of  land  amounts  to  an  acknowledgment  of  the  sovereign, 
and  a  virtual  promise  of  allegiance  to  his  laws,  it  is  necessary 
to  the  validity  of  the  argument  to  prove,  that  the  inhabitants, 
who  first  composed  and  constituted  the  state,  collectively  pos- 
sessed a  right  to  the  soil  of  the  country: — a  right  to  parcel  it 
out  to  whom  they  pleased,  and  to  annex  to  the  donation  what 
conditions  they  thought  fit.  How  came  they  by  this  right  ?  An 
agreement  amongst  themselves  would  not  confer  it :  that  could 
only  adjust  what  already  belonged  to  them.     A  society  of  men 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED.  %y§ 

vote  themselves  to  be  the  owners  of  a  region  of  the  world; — does 
that  vote  unaccompanied  especially  with  any  culture,  inclosure, 
or  proper  act  of  occupation,  make  it  theirs  ?  does  it  entitle 
them  to  exclude  others  from  it,  or  to  dictate  the  conditions  upon 
which  it  shall  be  enjoyed  ?  Yet  this  original  collective  right  and 
ownership  is  the  foundation  of  all  the  reasoning,  by  which  the 
duty  of  allegiance  is  inferred  from  the  possession  of  land. 

The  theory  of  government  which  affirms  the  existence  and  the 
obligation  of  a  social  compact,  would,  after  all,  merit  little  dis- 
cussion, and,  however  groundless  and  unnecessary,  should  receive 
no  opposition  from  us,  did  it  not  appear  to  lead  to  conclusions 
unfavourable  to  the  improvement,  and  to  the  peace,  of  human 
society. 

1st.  Upon  the  supposition  that  government  was  first  erected 
by,  and  that  it  derives  all  its  just  authority  from,  resolutions 
entered  into  by  a  convention  of  the  people,  it  is  capable  of  being 
presumed,  that  many  points  were  settled  by  that  convention,  an- 
teriour  to  the  establishment  of  the  subsisting  legislature,  and 
which  the  legislature,  consequently,  has  no  right  to  alter,  or 
interfere  with.  These  points  are  called  the  fundamentals  of  the 
constitution;  and  as  it  is  impossible  to  determine  how  many,  or 
what  they  are,  the  suggesting  of  any  such  serves  extremely  to 
embarrass  the  deliberations  of  the  legislature,  and  affords  a  dan- 
gerous pretence  for  disputing  the  authority  of  the  laws.  It  was 
this  sort  of  reasoning  (so  far  as  reasoning  of  any  kind  was  em- 
ployed in  the  question)  that  produced  in  this  nation  the  doubt, 
which  so  much  agitated  the  minds  of  men  in  the  reign  of  the 
second  Charles,  whether  an  Act  of  Parliament  could  of  right 
alter  or  limit  the  succession  of  the  crown. 

2dly.  If  it  be  by  virtue  of  a  compact,  that  the  subject  owes 
obedience  to  civil  government,  it  will  follow  that  he  ought  to 
abide  by  the  form  of  government  which  he  finds  established,  be 
it  ever  so  absurd  or  inconvenient.  He  is  bound  by  his  bargain. 
It  is  not  permitted  to  any  man  to  retreat  from  his  engagement, 
merely  because  he  finds  the  performance  disadvantageous,  or 
because  he  has  an  opportunity  of  entering  into  a  better.  This 
law  of  contracts  is  universal :  and  to  call  the  relation  between 
the  sovereign  and  the  subjects  a  contract,  yet  not  to  apply  to  it 
the  rules,  or  allow  of  the  effects  of  a  contract,  is  an  arbitrary 
ase  of  names,  and  an  unsteadiness  in  reasoning,  which  can  teach 


gy@  DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAUSTED. 

nothing.  Resistance  to  the  encroachments  of  the  supreme  magis- 
trate may  be  justified  upon  this  principle;  recourse  to  arms,  for 
the  purpose  of  bringing  about  an  amendment  of  the  constitution} 
never  can.  No  form  of  government  contains  a  provision  for  its 
own  dissolution  ;  and  few  governours  will  consent  to  the  extinc- 
tion, or  even  to  any  abridgment,  of  their  own  power.  It  does 
not  therefore  appear,  how  despotic  governments  can  ever,  in  con- 
sistency with  the  obligation  of  the  subject,  be  changed  or  miti- 
gated. Despotism  is  the  constitution  of  many  states  :  and  whilst 
a  despotic  prince  exacts  from  his  subjects,  the  most  rigorous  ser- 
vitude, according  to  this  account,  he  is  only  holding  them  to  their 
agreement.  A  people  may  vindicate,  by  force,  the  rights  which 
the  constitution  has  left  them  ;  but  every  attempt  to  narrow  the 
prerogative  of  the  crown,  by  new  limitations,  and  in  opposition  to 
the  will  of  the  reigning  prince,  whatever  opportunities  may  invite, 
or  success  follow  it,  must  be  condemned  as  an  infraction  of  the 
compact  between  the  sovereign  and  the  subject. 

Sdly.  Every  violation  of  the  compact  on  the  part  of  the  gov- 
ernour  releases  the  subject  from  his  allegiance,  and  dissolves  the 
government.  I  do  not  perceive  how  we  can  avoid  this  conse- 
quence, if  we  found  the  duty  of  allegiance  upon  compact,  and 
confess  any  analogy  between  the  social  compact  and  other  con- 
tracts. In  private  contracts,  the  violation  and  non-performance 
of  the  conditions,  by  one  of  the  parties,  vacates  the  obligation  of 
the  other.  Now  the  terms  and  articles  of  the  social  compact, 
being  no  where  extant  or  expressed;  the  rights  and  offices  of  the 
administrator  of  an  empire  being  so  many  and  various  ;  the  im- 
aginary and  controverted  line  of  his  prerogative,  being  so  liable 
to  be  overstepped  in  one  part  or  other  of  it :  the  position,  that 
every  such  transgression  amounts  to  a  forfeiture  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  consequently  authorizes  the  people  to  withdraw  their 
obedience,  and  provide  for  themselves  by  a  new  settlement,  would 
endanger  the  stability  of  every  political  fabric  in  the  world,  and 
has  in  fact  always  supplied  the  disaffected  with  a  topic  of  sedi- 
tious declamation.  If  occasions  have  arisen,  in  which  this  plea 
has  been  resorted  to  with  justice  and  success,  they  have  been 
occasions  in  which  a  revolution  was  defensible,  upon  other  and 
plainer  principles.  The  plea  itself  is  at  all  times  captious  and 
unsafe. 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED.  gj^y 

Wherefore,  rejecting  the  intervention  of  a  eompaet,  as  unfound- 
ed in  its  principle,  and  dangerous  in  the  application,  we  assign 
for  the  only  ground  of  the  subject's  obligation,  the  will  of  God, 

AS  COLLECTED  FROM  EXPEDIENCY. 

The  steps  by  which  the  argument  proceeds  are  few  and  direct. 
"  It  is  the  will  of  God,  that  the  happiness  of  human  life  be  pro- 
moted :" — this  is  the  first  step,  and  the  foundation  not  only  of 
this  but  of  every  moral  conclusion.  "  Civil  society  conduces  to  that 
end ;'' — this  is  the  second  proposition.  "  Civil  societies  cannot 
he  upholden,  unless  in  each,  the  interest  of  the  whole  society  be 
binding  upon  every  part  and  member  of  it :"  this  is  the  third 
step,  and  conducts  us  to  the  conclusion,  namely,  "  that  so  long  as 
the  interest  of  the  whole  society  requires  it,  that  is,  so  long  as 
the  established  government  cannot  be  resisted  or  changed  without 
public  inconveniency,  it  is  the  will  of  God  (which  will  universally 
determines  our  duty,)  that  the  established  government  be  obey- 
ed,"— and  no  longer. 

This  principle  being  admitted,  the  justice  of  every  particular 
case  of  resistance,  is  reduced  to  a  computation  of  the  quantity  of 
the  danger  and  grievance  on  the  one  side,  and  of  the  probability 
and  expense  of  redressing  it  on  the  other. 

But  who  shall  judge  of  this  ?  We  answer,  "  Every  man  for 
himself."  In  contentious  between  the  sovereign  and  the  subject, 
the  parties  acknowledge  no  common  arbitrator;  and  it  would  be 
absurd  to  refer  the  decision  to  those  whose  conduct  has  provoked 
the  question,  and  whose  own  interest,  authority,  and  fate,  are 
immediately  concerned  in  it.  The  danger  of  errour  and  abuse  is 
no  objection  to  the  rule  of  expediency,  because  every  other  rule 
is  liable  to  the  same  or  greater ;  and  every  rule  that  can  be  pro- 
pounded upon  the  subject,  (like  all  rules  indeed,  which  appeal  to, 
or  bind,  the  conscience)  must  in  the  application,  depend  upon 
private  judgment.  It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  it  ought 
equally  to  be  accounted  the  exercise  of  a  man's  own  private  judg- 
ment, whether  he  be  determined  by  reasons  and  conclusions  of  his 
own,  or  submit  to  be  directed  by  the  advice  of  others,  provided  he 
be  free  to  choose  his  guide. 

We  proceed  to  point  out  some  easy,  but  important  inferences, 
which  result  from  the  substitution  of  public  expediency  into 
the  place  of  all  implied  compacts,  promises  or  conventions  what- 
soever. 


£78 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED. 


I.  It  may  be  as  much  a  duty,  at  one  time,  to  resist  government, 
as  it  is,  at  another,  to  obey  it ;  to  wit,  whenever  more  advantage 
will)  in  our  opinion,  accrue  to  the  community,  from  resistance, 
than  mischief. 

If.  The  lawfulness  of  resistance,  or  the  lawfulness  of  a  revolt, 
does  not  depend  alone  upon  the  grievance  which  is  sustained  or 
feared,  but  also  upon  the  probable  expense,  and  event  of  the  con- 
test. They  who  concerted  the  revolution  in  England,  were  jus- 
tifiable in  their  counsels,  because  from  the  apparent  disposition 
of  the  nation,  and  the  strength  and  character  of  the  parties  en- 
gaged, the  measure  was  likely  to  be  brought  about  with  little  mis- 
ehief  or  bloodshed  ;  whereas  it  might  have  been  a  question,  with 
many  friends  of  their  country,  whether  the  injuries  then  endured 
and  threatened  would  have  authorized  the  renewal  of  a  doubtful 
civil  war. 

III.  Irregularity  in  the  first  foundation  of  a  state,  or  subsequent 
violence,  fraud,  or  injustice,  in  getting  possession  of  the  supreme 
power,  are  not  sufficient  reasons  for  resistance,  after  tbe  govern- 
ment is  once  peaceably  settled.  No  subject  of  the  British  empire, 
eonceives  himself  engaged  to  vindicate  the  justice  of  the  Norman 
claim  or  conquest,  or  apprehends  that  his  duty,  in  any  manner 
depends  upon  that  controversy.  So,  likewise,  if  the  House  of 
Lancaster,  or  even  the  posterity  of  Cromwell,  had  been  at  this 
day  seated  upon  the  throne  of  England,  we  should  have  been  as 
little  concerned  to  inquire  how  the  founder  of  the  family  came 
there.  No  civil  contests  are  so  futile,  although  none  have  been  so 
furious  and  sanguinary,  as  those  which  are  excited  by  a  disputed 
succession. 

IV.  Not  every  invasion  of  the  subject's  rights,  or  liberty,  or  of 
the  constitution  ;  not  every  breach  of  promise,  or  of  oath  ;  not 
every  stretch  of  prerogative,  abuse  of  power,  or  neglect  of  duty 
by  the  ehief  magistrate,  or  by  the  whole  or  any  branch  of  the 
legislative  body,  justifies  resistance,  unless  these  crimes  draw  af- 
ter them  public  consequences  of  sufficient  magnitude,  to  outweigh 
the  evils  of  civil  disturbance.  Nevertheless  every  violation  of 
the  constitution  ought  to  be  watched  Avith  jealousy,  and  resented 
as  such,  beyond  what  the  quantity  of  estimable  damage  would 
require  or  warrant ;  because  a  known  and  settled  usage  of  govern- 
ing affords  the  only  security  against  the  enormities  of  uncontrolled 
(dominion,  and  because  this  security  is  weakened  by  every  en- 


DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED.  <gflQ 

croachment,  which  is  made  without  opposition,  or  opposed  with- 
out effect.  • 

V.  No  usage,  law,  or  authority  whatever,  is  so  binding,  that  it 
need  or  ought  to  be  continued,  when  it  may  be  changed  with  ad- 
vantage to  the  community.  The  family  of  the  prince,  the  order 
of  succession,  the  prerogative  of  the  crown,  the  form  and  parts 
of  the  legislature,  together  with  the  respective  powers,  office? 
duration,  and  mutual  dependency  of  the  several  parts,  are  all 
only  so  many  laws,  mutable  like  other  laws,  whenever  expediency 
requires,  either  by  the  ordinary  act  of  the  legislature,  or,  if  the 
occasion  deserve  it,  by  the  interposition  of  the  people.  These 
points  are  wont  to  be  approached  with  a  kind  of  awe ;  they  are 
represented  to  the  mind  as  principles  of  the  constitution  settled 
by  our  ancestors,  and,  being  settled,  to  be  no  more  committed  to 
innovation  or  debate;  as  foundations  never  to  be  stirred;  as  the 
terms  and  conditions  of  the  social  compact,  to  which  every  citi- 
zen of  the  state  has  engaged  his  fidelity,  by  virtue  of  a  promise 
which  he  cannot  now  recall.  Such  reasons  have  no  place 
in  our  system :  to  us,  if  there  be  any  good  reason  for  treating 
these  with  more  deference  and  respect  than  other  laws,  it  is, 
either  the  advantage  of  the  present  constitution  of  government 
(which  reason  must  be  of  different  force,  in  different  countries,) 
or  because  in  all  countries  it  is  of  importance,  that  the  form  and 
usage  of  governing  be  acknowledged  and  understood,  as  well  by 
the  governours  as  by  the  governed,  and  because  the  seldomer  it  is 
changed,  the  more  perfectly  it  will  be  known  by  both  sides. 

VI.  As  all  civil  obligation  is  resolved  into  expediency,  what 
it  may  be  asked,  is  the  difference  between  the  obligation  of  an 
Englishman  and  a  Frenchman  ?  or  why,  since  the  obligation  of 
both  appears  to  be  founded  in  the  same  reason,  is  a  Frenchman 
bound  in  conscience  to  bear  any  thing  from  his  king,  which  an 
Englishman  would  not  be  bound  to  bear  ?  Their  conditions  may 
differ,  but  their  rights,  according  to  this  account,  should  seem  to 
be  equal ;  and  yet  we  are  accustomed  to  speak  of  the  rights  as 
well  as  of  the  happiness  of  a  free  people,  compared  with  what  be- 
long to  the  subjects  of  absolute  monarchies:  how,  you  will  say, 
can  this  comparison  be  explained,  unless  we  refer  to  a  difference 
in  the  compacts,  by  which  they  are  respectively  bound  ? — This 
is  a  fair  question,  and  the  answer  to  it  will  afford  a  further  illus- 
tration of  our  principles.     We  admit  then  that  there  are  many 


ggO  DUTY  OF  SUBMISSION  EXPLAINED. 

things  winch  a  Frenchman  is  bound  in  conscience,  as  well  as  by 
coercion,  to  endure  at  the  hands  of  his  prfhce,  to  which  au  Eng- 
lishman would  not  be  obliged  to  submit;  but  we  assert  that  it  is 
for  these  two  reasons  alone :  first,  because  the  same  act  of  the 
prince  is.  not  the  same  grievance,  where  it  is  agreeable  to  the 
constitution,  and  where  it  infringes  it ;  secondly,  because  redress 
in  the  two  cases  is  not  equally  attainable.  Resistance  cannot 
be  attempted  with  equal  hopes  of  success,  or  with  the  same  pros- 
pect of  receiving  support  from  others,  where  the  people  are  re- 
conciled to  their  sufferings,  as  where  they  are  alarmed  by  inno- 
vation. In  this  way,  and  no  otherwise,  the  subjects  of  different 
states  possess  different  civil  rights;  the  duty  of  obedience  is  de- 
fined by  different  boundaries;  and  the  point  of  justifiable  resis- 
tance placed  at  different  parts  of  the  scale  of  suffering  ;  all  which 
is  sufficiently  intelligible  without  a  social  compact. 

VII.  "  The  interest  of  the  whole  society  is  binding  upon  every 
part  of  it."  No  rule,  short  of  this,  will  provide  for  the  stability 
of  civil  govern  meat,  or  for  the  peace  and  safety  of  social  life. 
Wherefore,  as  individual  members  of  the  state  are  not  permitted 
to  pursue  their  private  emolument  to  the  prejudice  of  the  com- 
munity, so  is  it  equally  a  consequence  of  this  rule,  that  no  par- 
ticular colony,  province,  town,  or  district,  can  justly  concert 
measures  for  their  separate  interest,  which  shall  appear  at  the 
same  time  to  diminish  the  sum  of  public  prosperity.  I  do  not 
mean,  that  it  is  necessary  to  the  justice  of  a  measure,  that  it  profit 
each  and  every  part  of  the  community  ;  (for,  as  the  happiness  of 
the  whole  may  be  increased,  whilst  that  of  some  parts  is  dimin- 
ished, it  is  possible  that  the  conduct  of  one  part  of  an  empire 
may  be  detrimental  to  some  other  part,  and  yet  just,  provided"  one 
part  gain  more  in  happiness,  than  the  other  part  loses,  so  that 
the  common  weal  be  augmented  by  the  change  :)  but  what  I  affirm 
is,  that  those  counsels  can  never  be  reconciled  with  the  obliga- 
tions resulting  from  civil  union,  which  cause  the  whole  happiness 
of  the  society  to  be  impaired  for  the  conveniency  of  a  part.  This 
conclusion  is  applicable  to  the  question  of  right  between  Great 
Britain  and  her  revolted  colonies.  Had  I  been  an  American,  I 
should  not  have  thought  it  enough  to  have  had  it  even  demon- 
strated, that  a  separation  from  the  parent  state,  would  produce 
effects  beneficial  to  America;  my  relation  to  that  state  imposed 
upon  me  a  further  inquiry,  namely,  whether  the  whole  happiness 


DUTY  OF  CIVIL  OBEDIENCE.  gg£ 

of  the  empire  was  likely  to  he  promoted  by  such  a  measure :  not 
indeed  the  happiness  of  every  part;  that  was  not  necessary,  nor 
to  be  expected; — but  whether  what  Great  Britain  would  lose  by 
the  separation  was  likely  to  be  compensated  to  the  joint  stock  of 
happiness,  by  the  advantages  which  America  would  receive  from 
if.  The  contested  claims  of  sovereign  states,  and  their  remote 
dependencies  may  be  submitted  to  the  adjudication  of  this  rule 
with  mutual  safety.  A  public  advantage  is  measured  by  the  ad- 
vantage which  each  individual  receives,  and  by  the  number  of 
those  who  receive  it.  A  public  evil,  is  compounded  of  the  same 
proportions.  Whilst,  therefore,  a  colony  is  small,  or  a  province 
thinly  inhabited,  if  a  competition  of  interests  arise  between  the 
original  country  and  their  acquired  dominions,  the  former  ought 
to  be  preferred,  because  it  is  fit,  that  if  one  must  necessarily 
be  sacrificed,  the  less  give  place  to  the  greater;  but  when,  by  an 
increase  of  population,  the  interest  of  the  provinces  begins  to 
bear  a  considerable  proportion  to  the  entire  interest  of  the  com- 
munity, it  is  possible  that  they  may  suffer  so  much  by  their  sub- 
jection, that  not  only  theirs,  but  the  whole  happiness  of  the  em- 
pire may  be  obstructed  by  their  union.  The  rule  and  principle 
of  the  calculation  being  still  the  same,  the  result  is  different ;  and 
ibis  difference  begets  a  new  situation,  which  entitles  the  subordi- 
nate parts  of  the  state  to  more  equal  terms  of  confederation,  and, 
if  these  be  refused,  to  independency. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OF  THE  DUTY  OF  CIVIL  OBEDIENCE,  AS  STATED  IN  THE 
CHRISTIAN  SCRIPTURES. 

WE  affirm  that,  as  to  the  extent  of  our  civil  rights  and  obliga- 
tions, Christianity  hath  left  us,  where  she  found  us  ;  that  she  hath 
neither  altered  nor  ascertained  it ;  that  the  New  Testament  con- 
tains not  one  passage,  which,  fairly  interpreted,  affords  either  ar- 
gument or  objection  applicable  to  any  conclusions  upon  the  sub- 
ject, that  are  deduced  from  the  law  and  religion  of  nature. 
36 


282  DUTY  OF  CIVIL  OBEDIENCE, 

The  only  passages  which  have  been  seriously  alleged  in  the 
controversy,  or  which  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  state  and  examine, 
are  the  two  following;  the  one  extracted  from  St.  Paul's  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  the  other  from  the  First  General  Epistle  of  St. 
Peter.  ^ 

Romans,  xiii.  1 — 7. 

"Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the  higher  powers.  For  there 
is  no  power  but  of  God  ;  the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God. 
Whosoever  therefore  resisteth  the  power  resisteth  the  ordinance 
of  God  :  and  they  that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves  damna- 
tion. For  rulers  are  not  a  terror  to  good  worScs,  but  to  the  evil. 
Wilt  thou  then  not  be  afraid  of  the  power  ?  Do  that  which  is  good, 
and  thou  shalt  have  praise  of  the  same  ;  for  he  is  the  minister  of 
God  to  thee  for  good.  But  if  thou  do  that  which  is  evil,  be 
afraid ;  for  he  beareth  not  the  sword  in  vain  :  for  he  is  the  min- 
ister of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath  upon  him  that  doeth 
evil.  Wherefore  ye  must  needs  be  subject,  not  only  for  wrath, 
but  also  for  conscience  sake.  For,  for  this  cause  pay  you  tribute 
also  ;  for  they  are  God's  ministers,  attending  continually  upon 
this  very  thing.  Render  therefore  to  all  their  dues  :  tribute  to 
whom  tribute  is  due,  custom  to  whom  custom,  fear  to  whom  fear, 
honour  to  whom  honour." 

1  peter,  ii.  13 — 18. 

"  Submit  yourselves  to  every  ordinance  of  man  for  the  Lord's 
sake  :  whether  it  be  to  the  king  as  supreme ;  or  unto  governours, 
as  unto  them  that  are  sent  by  him  for  the  punishment  of  evil  doers, 
and  for  the  praise  of  them  that  do  well.  For  so  is  the  will  of 
God,  that  with  well-doing  ye  may  put  to  silence  the  ignorance  of 
foolish  men :  as  free  and  not  using  your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of 
maliciousness,  but  as  the  servants  of  God." 

To  comprehend  the  proper  import  of  these  instructions,  let  the 
reader  reflect,  that  upon  the  subject  of  civil  obedience  there  are 
two  questions ;  the  first,  whether  to  obey  government  be  a  moral 
duty  and  obligation  upon  the  conscience  at  all :  the  second,  how 
far,  and  to  what  cases,  that  obedience  ought  to  extend :  that 
these  two  questions  are  so  distinguishable  in  the  imagination, 
that  it  is  possible  to  treat  of  the  one,  without  any  thought  of  the 


AS  STATED  IN  THE  SCRIPTURES.  g83 

other  5  and  lastly,  that  if  expressions  which  relate  to  one  of  these 
questions  be  transferred  and  appli'ed  to  the  other,  it  is  with  great 
danger  of  giving  them  a  signification  very  different  from  the  au- 
thor's meaning.  This  distinction  is  not  only  possible,  but  natural. 
If  I  met  with  a  person  who  appeared  to  entertain  doubts,  whether 
civil  obedience  were  a  moral  duty  which  ought  to  be  voluntarily 
discharged,  or  whether  it  were  not  a  mere  submission  to  force, 
like  that  which  we  yield  to  a  robber  who  holds  a  pistol  to  our 
hreast,  I  should  represent  to  him  the  use  and  offices  of  civil  gov- 
ernment, the  end  and  the  necessity  of  civil  subjection  j  or,  if  I  pre- 
ferred a  different  theory,  I  should  explain  to  him  the  social  com- 
pact, urge  him  with  the  obligation  and  the  equity  of  his  implied 
promise  and  tacit  consent  to  be  governed  by  the  laws  of  the  state 
from  which  he  received  protection ;  or  I  should  argue,  perhaps,  that 
nature  herself  dictated  the  law  of  subordination,  when  she  plant- 
ed within  us  an  inclination  to  associate  with  our  species,  and 
framed  us  with  capacities  so  various  and  unequal.  From  what- 
ever principle  I  set  out,  I  should  labour  to  infer  from  it  this  con- 
clusion, "  That  obedience  to  the  state  is  to  be  numbered  amongst 
the  relative  duties  of  human  life,  for  the  transgression  of  which 
we  shall  be  accountable  at  the  tribunal  of  divine  justice,  whether 
the  magistrate  be  able  to  punish  us  for  it  or  not ;"  and  being 
arrived  at  this  conclusion,  I  should  stop,  having  delivered  the 
conclusion  itself,  and  throughout  the  whole  argument  expressed 
the  obedience,  which  I  inculcated,  in  the  most  general  and  un- 
qualified terms ;  all  reservations  and  restrictions  being  superflu- 
ous, and  foreign  to  the  doubts  I  was  employed  to  remove. 

If  in  a  short  time  afterwards  I  should  be  accosted  by  the  same 
person,  with  complaints  of  public  grievances,  of  exorbitant  taxes, 
of  acts  of  cruelty  and  oppression,  of  tyrannical  encroachments 
upon  the  ancient  or  stipulated  rights  of  the  people,  and  should  be 
consulted  whether  it  were  lawful  to  revolt,  or  justifiable  to  join 
in  an  attempt  to  shake  off  the  yoke  by  open  resistance ;  I  should 
certainly  consider  myself  as  having  a  case  and  question  before  me 
very  different  from  the  former.  I  should  now  define  and  dis- 
criminate. I  should  reply,  that  if  public  expediency  be  the 
foundation,  it  is  also  the  measure  of  civil  obedience  ;  that  the 
obligation  of  subjects  and  sovereigns  is  reciprocal ;  that  the  duty 
of  allegiance,  whether  it  be  founded  in  utility  or  compact,  is  nei- 
ther unlimited  nor  unconditional ;  that  peace  may  be  purchased 


%g$  DUTY  OF  CIVIL  OBEDIENCE, 

too  dearly  ;  that  patience  becomes  culpable  pusillanimity,  when 
it  serves  only  to  encourage  our  rulers  to  increase  the  weight  of 
our  burthen,  or  to  bind  it  the  faster;  that  the  submission  which 
surrenders  the  liberty  of  a  nation,  and  entails  slavery  upon  future 
generations,  is  enjoined  by  no  law  of  rational  morality ;  finally, 
I  should  instruct  the  inquirer  to  compare  the  peril  and  expense  of 
Lis  enterprize  with  the  effects  it  was  expected  to  produce,  and  to 
make  choice  of  the  alternative,  by  which  not  his  own  present 
relief  or  profit,  but  the  whole  and  permanent  interest  of  the  state 
was  likely  to  be  best  promoted  If  any  one  who  had  been  present 
at  both  these  conversations  should  upbraid  me  with  change  or  in- 
consistency of  opinion,  should  retort  upon  me  the  passive  doctrine 
which  I  before  taught,  the  large  and  absolute  terms  in  which  I 
then  delivered  lessons  of  obedience  and  submission,  I  should  ac- 
count myself  unfairly  dealt  with.  I  should  reply,  that  the  only 
difference  which  the  language  of  the  two  conversations  presented 
was,  that  I  added  now  many  exceptions  and  limitations,  which 
were  omitted  or  unthought  of  then  ;  that  this  difference  arose 
naturally  from  the  two  occasions,  such  exceptions  being  as  neces- 
sary to  the  subject  of  our  present  conference,  as  they  would  have 
been  superfluous  and  unseasonable  in  the  former.  Now  the  dif- 
ference in  these  two  conversations  is  precisely  the  distinction  to 
be  taken  in  interpreting  those  passages  of  scripture,  concerning 
which  we  are  debating.  They  inculcate  the  duty,  they  do  not 
describe  the  extent  of  it.  They  enforce  the  obligation  by  the 
proper  sanctions  of  Christianity,  without  intending  either  to  eu- 
large  or  coutract,  without  considering  indeed  the  limits  by  which 
it  is  bounded.  This  is  also  the  method  in  which  the  same  Apos- 
tles enjoin  the  duty  of  servants  to  their  masters,  of  children  to 
their  parents,  of  wives  to  their  husbands  :  "  Servants,  be  subject 
to  your  masters.'' — "  Children,  obey  your  parents  in  all  things."' 
— "  Wives,  submit  yourselves  unto  your  own  husbands."  The 
same  concise  and  absolute  form  of  expression  occurs  in  all  these 
precepts  ;  the  same  silence,  as  to  any  exceptions  or  distinctions  : 
yet  no  one  doubts  but  that  the  commands  of  masters,  parents,  and 
husbands  are  often  so  immoderate,  unjust,  and  inconsistent  with 
other  obligations,  that  they  both  may  and  ought  to  be  resisted. 
In  letters  or  dissertations  written  professedly  upon  separate  arti- 
cles of  morality,  we  might  with  more  reason  have  looked  for  a 
precise  delineation  of  our  duty,  and  some  degree  of  modern  ac- 


AS  STATED  IN  THE  SCRIPTURES.  g§5 

curacy  in  the  rules  which  were  laid  down  for  our  direction  ;  but 
in  those  short  collections  of  practical  maxims  which  compose  the 
conclusion,  or  some  small  portion,  of  a  doctrinal  or  perhaps  con- 
troversial epistle,  we  cannot  he  surprised  to  find  the  author  more 
solicitous  to  impress  the  duty,  than  curious  to  enumerate  ex- 
ceptions. 

The  consideration  of  this  distinction  is  alone  sufficient  to  vin- 
dicate these  passages  of  scripture  from  any  explanation  which 
may  be  put  upon  them,  in  favour  of  an  unlimited  passive  obedi- 
ence. But  if  we  be  permitted  to  assume  a  supposition,  which 
many  commentators  proceed  upon  as  a  certainty,  that  the  first 
Christians  privately  cherished  an  opinion,  that  their  conversion 
to  Christianity  entitled  them  to  new  immunities,  to  an  exemption, 
as  of  right  (however  they  might  give  way  to  necessity.)  from  the 
authority  of  the  Roman  sovereign,  we  are  furnished  with  a  still 
more  apt  and  satisfactory  interpretation  of  the  Apostles'  words. 
The  two  passages  apply  with  great  propriety  to  the  refutation  of 
this  errour :  they  teach  the  Christian  convert  to  obey  the  magis- 
trate "  for  the  Lord's  sake ;" — "  not  only  for  wrath,  but  for  con- 
science sake;'' — "that  there  is  no  power  but  of  God;" — "that 
the  powers  that  be,''  even  the  present  rulers  of  the  Roman  em- 
pire, though  heathens  and  usurpers,  seeing  they  are  in  possession 
of  the  actual  and  necessary  authority  of  civil  government,  "  are 
ordained  of  God,"  and,  consequently,  entitled  to  receive  obedi- 
ence from  those  who  profess  themselves  the  peculiar  servants  of 
God,  in  a  greater  (certainly  not  in  a  less)  degree  than  from  any 
others.  They  briefly  describe  the  office  of  "  civil  governors, 
the  punishment  of  evil  doers,  and  the  praise  of  them  that  do 
well ;"  from  which  description  of  the  use  of  government,  they 
justly  infer  the  duty  of  subjection,  which  duty  being  as  extensive 
as  the  reason  upon  which  it  is  founded,  belongs  to  Christians  no 
less  than  to  the  heathen  members  Gf  the  community.  If  it  be  ad- 
mitted, that  the  two  Apostles  wrote  with  a  view  to  this  particular 
question,  it  will  be  confessed,  that  their  words  cannot  lie  trans- 
ferred to  a  question  totally  different  from  this,  with  any  certainty 
of  carrying  along  with  us  their  authority  and  intention.  There 
exists  no  resemblance  between  the  ease  of  a  primitive  convert, 
who  disputed  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Roman  government  over  a 
disciple  of  Christianity,  and  his  who,  acknowledging  the  gen- 
eral authority  of  the  state  over   all  its  subjects,  doubts  whether 


286  DUTY  OF  CIVIL  OBEDIENCE, 

that  authority  be  not,  in  some  important  branch  of  it,  so  ill  con- 
stituted, or  abused,  as  to  warrant  the  endeavours  of  the  people 
to  bring  about  a  reformation  by  force.  Nor  can  we  judge  what 
reply  the  Apostles  would  have  made  to  this  second  question,  if  it 
had  been  proposed  to  them,  from  any  thing  they  have  delivered 
upon  the  first ;  any  more  than,  in  the  two  consultations  above 
described,  it  could  be  known  beforehand  what  1  would  say  in  the 
latter,  from  the  answer  which  I  gave  to  the  former. 

The  only  defect  in  this  account  is,  that  neither  the  scriptures, 
nor  any  subsequent  history  of  the  early  ages  of  the  church,  fur- 
nish any  direct  attestation  of  the  existence  of  such  disaffected 
sentiments  amongst  the  primitive  converts.  They  supply  indeed 
some  circumstances  which  render  probable  the  opinion,  that  ex- 
travagant notions  of  the  political  rights  of  the  Christian  state 
were  at  that  time  entertained  by  many  proselytes  to  the  religion. 
From  the  question  proposed  to  Christ,  "  Is  it  lawful  to  give 
tribute  unto  Cassar  ?"  it  may  be  presumed  that  doubts  had  been 
started  in  the  Jewish  schools  concerning  the  obligation,  or  even 
the  lawfulness,  of  submission  to  the  Roman  yoke.  The  accounts 
delivered  by  Josephus,  of  various  insurrections  of  the  Jews  of 
that  and  the  following  age,  excited  by  this  principle,  or  upon  this 
pretence,  confirm  the  presumption.  Now,  as  the  Christians  were 
at  first  chiefly  taken  from  the  Jews,  confounded  with  them  by  the 
rest  of  the  world,  and,  from  the  affinity  of  the  two  religions,  apt 
to  intermix  the  doctrines  of  both,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that 
a  tenet  so  flattering  to  the  self  importance  of  those  who  embraced 
it,  should  have  been  communicated  to  the  new  institution.  Again, 
the  teachers  of  Christianity,  amongst  the  privileges  which  their 
religion  conferred  upon  its  professors,  were  wont  to  extol  the 
"  liberty  into  which  they  were  called,'' — "  in  which  Christ  had 
made  them  free."  This  liberty,  which  was  intended  of  a  deliver- 
ance from  the  various  servitude,  in  which  they  had  heretofore  lived, 
to  the  domination  of  sinful  passions,  to  the  superstition  of  the 
Gentile  idolatry,  or  the  incumbered  ritual  of  the  Jewish  dispen- 
sation, might  by  some  be  interpreted  to  signify  an  emancipation 
from  all  restraint  which  was  imposed  by  an  authority  merely 
human.  At  least  they  might  be  represented  by  their  enemies  as 
maintaining  notions  of  this  dangerous  tendency.  To  some  errour 
or  calumny  of  this  kind,  the  words  of  St.  Peter  seem  to  allude; 
"  For  so  is  the  will  of  God,  that  with  well-doing  ye  may  put  to 


AS  STATED  IN  THE  SCRIPTURES. 


287 


silence  the  ignorance  of  foolish  men :  as  free,  and  not  using 
your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness,  (i.  e.  sedition,)  but  as  the 
servants  of  God."  After  all,  if  any  one  think  this  conjecture  too 
feebly  supported  by  testimony  to  be  relied  upon  in  the  interpre- 
tation of  scripture,  he  will  then  revert  to  the  considerations  al- 
leged in  the  preceding  part  of  this  chapter. 

After  so  copious  an  account  of  what  we  apprehend  to  be  the 
general  design  and  doctrine  of  these  much  agitated  passages, 
little  need  be  added  in  explanation  of  particular  clauses.  St. 
Paul  has  said,  "  Whosoever  resistelh  the  power,  resisteth  the 
ordinance  of  God."  This  phrase,  "  the  ordinance  of  God,''  is 
by  many  so  interpreted  as  to  authorize  the  most  exalted  and 
superstitious  ideas  of  the  regal  character.  But,  surely,  such  in- 
terpreters have  sacrificed  truth  to  adulation.  For,  in  the  first 
place,  the  expression  as  used  by  St.  Paul,  is  just  as  applicable 
to  one  kind  of  government,  and  to  one  kind  of  succession,  as 
to  another  ; — to  the  elective  magistrates  of  a  pure  republic,  as  to 
an  absolute  hereditary  monarch.  In  the  next  place,  it  is  not 
affirmed  of  the  supreme  magistrate  exclusively,  that  he  is  the 
ordinance  of  God  ;  the  title,  whatever  it  imports,  belongs  to 
every  inferiour  officer  of  the  state  as  ranch  as  to  the  highest. 
The  divine  right  of  kings  is,  like  the  divine  right  of  other  magis- 
trates,— the  law  of  the  land,  or  even  actual  and  quiet  possession 
of  their  office  ;  a  right  ratified,  we  humbly  presume,  by  the 
divine  approbation,  so  long  as  obedience  to  their  authority  ap- 
pears to  be  necessary  or  conducive  to  the  common  welfare. 
Princes  are  ordained  of  God  by  virtue  only  of  that  general  de- 
cree, by  which  he  assents,  and  adds  the  sanction  of  his  will,  to 
every  law  of  society,  which  promotes  his  own  purpose,  the 
communication  of  human  happiness  ;  according  to  which  idea 
of  their  origin  and  constitution,  (and  without  any  repugnancy  to 
the  words  of  St.  Paul,)  they  are  by  St.  Peter  denominated  the 
ordinance  of  man. 


288  °F  CIVIL  LIBERT Y. 

CHAPTER  V. 

OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

CIVIL  LIBERTY  is  the  not  being  restrained  by  any  Law,  but 
what  conduces  in  a  greater  degree  to  the  public  welfare. 

To  do  what  we  will,  is  natural  liberty  ;  to  do  what  we  will, 
consistently  with  the  interest  of  the  community  to  which  we  be- 
long, is  civil  liberty,  that  is  to  say,  the  only  liberty  to  be  desired 
in  a  state  of  civil  society. 

I  sbould  wish,  no  doubt,  to  be  allowed  to  act  in  every  instance 
as  I  pleased,  but  I  reflect  that  the  rest  also  of  mankind  would  then 
do  tbe  same ;  in  which  state  of  universal  independence  and 
self-direction  I  should  meet  with  so  many  checks  and  obstacles 
to  my  own  will,  from  tbe  interference  and  opposition  of  other 
men's,  that  not  only  my  happiness,  but  my  liberty,  would  be  less, 
than  whilst  the  wbole  community  were  subject  to  the  dominion 
of  equal  laws. 

The  boasted  liberty  of  a  state  of  nature  exists  only  in  a  state 
of  solitude.  In  every  kind  and  degree  of  union  and  intercourse 
with  his  species,  it  is  possible  tbat  the  liberty  of  the  individual 
may  be  augmented  by  the  very  laws  which  restrain  it ;  because  he 
may  gain  more  from  the  limitation  of  other  men's  freedom  than 
he  suffers  by  the  diminution  of  his  own.  Natural  liberty  is  the 
right  of  common  upon  a  waste;  civil  liberty  is  the  safe,  exclu- 
sive, unmolested  enjoyment  of  a  cultivated  iuclosure. 

The  definition  of  civil  liberty  above  laid  down  imports,  that 
the  laws  of  a  free  people  impose  no  restraints  upon  the  private 
will  of  the  subject,  which  do  not  conduce  in  a  greater  degree  to 
the  public  happiness;  by  which  it  is  intimated,  1.  That  re- 
straint itself  is  an  evil  ;  2.  That  this  evil  ought  to  be  overbal- 
anced by  some  public  advantage  ;  3.  That  *ie  proof  of  this  ad- 
vantage lies  upon  the  legislature  ;  4.  That  the  Jaw  being  found 
to  produce  no  sensible  good  effects,  is  a  sufficient  reason  for  re- 
pealing it,  as  adverse  and  injurious  to  the  rights  of  a  free  citizen, 
without  demanding  specific  evidence  of  its  bad  effects.  This 
maxim  might  be  remembered  with  advantage  in  a  revision  of 


OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  gg0 

many  laws  of  this  country  ;  especially  of  the  game  laws ;  of  the 
poor  laws,  so  far  as  they  lay  restrictions  upon  the  poor  them- 
selves ;  of  the  laws  against  Papists  and  Dissenters  :  and,  amongst 
people  enamoured  to  excess  and  jealous  of  their  liberty,  it  seems 
a  matter  of  surprise  that  this  principle  has  been  so  imperfectly 
attended  to. 

The  degree  of  actual  liberty  always  bearing,  according  to  this 
account  of  it,  a  reversed  proportion  to  the  number  and  severity 
of  the  restrictions  which  are  either  useless,  or  the  utility  of  which 
does  not  outweigh  the  evil  of  the  restraint,  it  follows,  that  every 
nation  possesses  some,  no  nation  perfect  liberty  ;  that  this  liberty 
may  be  enjoyed  under  every  form  of  government ;  that  it  may  be 
impaired  indeed,  or  increased,  but  that  it  is  neither  gained,  nor 
lost,  nor  recovered,  by  any  single  regulation,  change,  or  event 
whatever  ;  that  consequently,  those  popular  phrases  which  speak 
of  a  free  people ;  of  a  nation  of  slaves  ;  which  call  one  revolu- 
tion the  era  of  liberty  ;  or  another  the  loss  of  it ;  with  many  ex- 
pressions of  a  like  absolute  form,  are  intelligible  only  in  a  com- 
parative sense. 

Hence  also  we  are  enabled  to  apprehend  the  distinction  be- 
tween personal  and  civil  liberty.  A  citizen  of  the  freest  repub- 
lic in  the  world  may  be  imprisoned  for  his  crimes  ;  and  though 
his  personal  freedom  be  restrained  by  bolts  and  fetters,  so  long  as 
his  confinement  is  the  effect  of  a  beneficial  public  law,  his  civil 
liberty  is  not  invaded.  If  this  instance  appear  dubious,  the  fol- 
lowing will  be  plainer.  A  passenger  from  the  Levant,  who,  upon, 
his  return  to  England,  should  be  eonveyed  to  a  lazaretto  by  an 
order  of  quarentine,  with  whatever  impatience  he  might  desire 
his  enlargement,  and  though  he  saw  a  guard  placed  at  the  door 
to  oppose  his  escape,  or  even  ready  to  destroy  his  life  if  he  at- 
tempted it,  would  hardly  accuse  government  of  encroaching  upon 
his  civil  freedom  ;  nay,  might,  perhaps,  be  all  the  while  congrat- 
ulating himself  that  he  had  at  length  set  his  foot  again  in  a  land 
of  liberty.  The  manifest  expediency  of  the  measure  not  only 
justifies  it,  but  reconciles  the  most  odious  confinement  with  the 
perfect  possession,  and  the  loftiest  notions  of  civil  liberty.  And 
if  this  be  true  of  the  coercion  of  a  prison,  that  it  is  compatible 
with  a  state  of  civil  freedom,  it  cannot  with  reason  be  disputed  of 
those  more  moderate  constraints  which  the  ordinary  operation  of 
government  imposes  upon  the  will  of  the  individual.  It  is  not  the 
37 


ggO  OP  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

rigour,  but  the  inexpediency  of  laws  and  acts  of  authority,  which 
makes  them  tyrannical. 

There  is  another  idea  of  civil  liberty,  which,  though  neither  so 
simple  nor  so  accurate  as  the  former,  agrees  better  with  the  sig- 
nification, which  the  usage  of  common  discourse,  as  well  as  the 
example  of  many  respectable  writers  upon  the  subject,  has  affix- 
ed to  the  term.  This  idea  places  liberty  in  security ;  making  it 
to  consist  not  merely  in  an  actual  exemption  from  the  constraint  of 
useless  and  noxious  laws  and  acts  of  dominion,  but  in  being  free 
from  the  danger  of  having  any  such  hereafter  imposed  or  exercised. 
Thus,  speaking  of  the  political  state  of  modern  Europe,  we  are 
accustomed  to  say  of  Sweden,  that  she  hath  lost  her  liberty  by 
the  revolution  which  lately  took  place  in  that  country  ;  and  yet 
we  are  assured  that  the  people  continue  to  be  governed  by  the 
same  laws  as  before,  or  by  others  which  are  wiser,  milder,  and 
more  equitable.  AVhat  then  have  they  lost  ?  They  have  lost 
the  power  and  functions  of  their  diet ;  the  constitution  of  their 
states  and  orders,  whose  deliberations  and  concurrence  were  re- 
quired in  the  formation  and  establishment  of  every  public  law ; 
aud  thereby  have  parted  with  the  security  which  they  possessed 
against  any  attempts  of  the  crown  to  harass  its  subjects,  by  op- 
pressive and  useless  exertions  of  prerogative.  The  loss  of  this 
security  we  denominate  the  loss  of  liberty.  They  have  changed 
not  their  laws,  but  their  legislature;  not  their  enjoyment,  but 
their  safety;  not  their  present  burthens,  but  their  prospects  of 
future  grievances  :  and  this  we  pronounce  a  change  from  the  con- 
dition of  freemen  to  that  of  slaves.  In  like  manner,  in  our  own 
country,  the  act  of  parliament,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
which  gave  to  the  king's  proclamation  the  force  of  law,  has  pro- 
perly been  called  a  complete  and  formal  surrender  of  the  liberty 
of  the  nation  ;  and  would  have  been  so,  although  no  proclamation 
were  issued  in  pursuance  of  these  new  powers,  or  none  but  what 
was  recommended  by  the  highest  wisdom  and  utility.  The  secur- 
ity was  gone.  Were  it  probable  that  the  welfare  and  accommo- 
dation of  the  people  would  be  as  studiously,  and  as  providently, 
consulted  in  the  edicts  of  a  despotic  prince,  as  by  the  resolutions 
of  a  popular  assembly,  then  would  an  absolute  form  of  govern- 
ment be  no  less  free  than  the  purest  democracy.  The  different 
degree  of  care  and  knowledge  of  ti  e  public  interest  which  may 
reasonably  be  expected  from  the  different  form  and  composition 


OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  gQl 

©f  the  legislature,  constitutes  the  distinction,  in  respect  of  liberty, 
as  well  between  these  two  extremes,  as  between  all  the  interme- 
diate modifications  of  civil  government. 

The  definitions  which  have  been  framed  of  civil  liberty,  and 
which  have  become  the  subject  of  much  unnecessary  altercation, 
are  most  of  them  adapted  to  this  idea.  Thus  one  political  writer 
makes  the  very  essence  of  the  subject's  liberty  to  consist  in  his  be- 
ing governed  by  no  laws  but  those  to  which  he  hath  actually  con- 
sented :  another  is  satisfied  with  an  indirect  and  virtual  consent; 
another,  again,  places  eivil  liberty  in  the  separation  of  the  legis- 
lative and  executive  offices  of  government;  another,  in  the  being 
governed  by  law,  that  is,  by  known,  pre-constituted,  inflexible 
rules  of  action  and  adjudication  ;  a  fifth,  in  the  exclusive  right  of 
the  people  to  (ax  themselves  by  their  own  representatives ;  a  sixth, 
ill  the  freedom  and  purity  of  elections  of  representatives ;  a 
seventh,  in  the  control  which  the  democratic  part  of  the  constitu- 
tion possesses  over  the  military  establishment.  Concerning  which, 
and  some  other  similar  accounts  of  civil  liberty,  it  may  be  observ- 
ed that  they  all  labour  under  one  inaccuracy,  viz.  that  they  des- 
cribe not  so  much  liberty  itself,  as  the  safe-guards  and  preserva- 
tives of  liberty  :  for  example,  a  man's  being  governed  by  no  laws 
but  those  to  which  he  has  given  his  consent,  were  it  practicable, 
is  no  otherwise  necessary  to  the  enjoyment  of  civil  liberty,  than 
as  it  affords  a  probable  security  against  the  dictation  of  laws, 
imposiug  superfluous  restrictions  upon  his  private  will.  This 
remark  is  applicable  to  the  rest.  The  diversity  of  these  defini- 
tions will  not  surprise  us,  when  Ave  consider  that  there  is  no  con- 
trariety or  opposition  amongst  them  whatever;  for, by  how  many 
different  provisions  and  precautions  civil  liberty  is  fenced  and 
protected,  so  many  different  accounts  of  liberty  itself,  all  suffi- 
ciently consistent  with  truth  and  with  each  other,  may,  according 
to  this  mode  of  explaining  the  term,  be  framed  and  adopted. 

Truth  cannot  be  offended  by  a  definition,  but  propriety  may. 
In  which  view  those  definitions  of  liberty  ought  to  be  rejected, 
which,  by  making  that  essential  to  civil  freedom  which  is  unat- 
tainable in  experience,  inflame  expectations  that  can  never  be 
gratified,  and  disturb  the  public  content  with  complaints,  which 
no  wisdom  or  benevolence  of  government  can  remove. 

It  will  not  be  thought  extraordinary,  that  an  idea,  which  occura 
so  much  oftener  as  the  subject  of  panegyric  and  careleis  declaraa- 


ggg  OF  DIFFERENT  FORMS 

tion,  than  of  just  reasoning  or  correct  knowledge,  should  be  at- 
tended with  uncertainty  and  confusion  ;  or  that  it  should  be  found 
impossible  to  contrive  a  definition,  which  may  include  the  numer- 
ous, unsettled,  and  ever  varying  significations,  which  the  term  is 
made  to  stand  for,  and  at  the  same  time  aecord  with  the  condition 
and  experience  of  social  life. 

Of  the  two  ideas  that  have  been  stated  of  civil  liberty, 
whichever  we  assume,  and  whatever  reasoning  we  found  upon 
them,  concerning  its  extent,  nature,  value,  and  preservation,  this 
is  the  conclusion ; — that  that  people,  government,  and  constitu- 
tion, is  the  freest,  which  makes  the  best  provision  for  the  enacting 
of  expedient  and  salutary  laws. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OF  DIFFERENT  FORMS  OF  GOVERNMENT. 

AS  a  series  of  appeals  must  be  finite,  there  necessarily  exists 
in  every  government  a  power  from  which  the  constitution  has 
provided  no  appeal :  and  which  power,  for  that  reason,  may  be 
termed  absolute,  omnipotent,  uncontrollable,  arbitrary,  despotic : 
and  is  alike  so  in  all  countries. 

The  person  or  assembly,  in  whom  this  power  resides,  is  called 
the  sovereign,  or  the  supreme  power  of  the  state. 

Since  to  the  same  power  universally  appertains  the  office  of 
establishing  public  laws,  it  is  called  also  the  legislature  of  the 
state. 

A  government  receives  its  denomination  from  the  form  of  the 
legislature ;  which  form  is  likewise  what  we  commonly  mean  by 
the  constitution  of  a  country. 

Political  writers  enumerate  three  principal  forms  of  govern- 
ment, which,  however,  are  to  be  regarded  rather  as  the  simple 
forms,  by  some  combination  and  intermixture  of  which  all  actual 
governments  are  composed,  than  as  any  where  existing  in  a  pure 
and  elementary  state.     These  forms  are, 

I.  Despotism,  or  absolute  monarchy,  where  the  legislature  is 
in  a  single  person. 


OF  GOVERNMENT.  gQ3 

II.  An  aristocracy,  where  the  legislature  is  in  a  select  assem- 
bly, the  members  of  which  either  fill  up  by  election  the  vacancies 
in  their  own  body,  or  succeed  to  their  places  in  it  by  inheritance, 
property,  tenure  of  certain  lands,  or  in  respect  of  some  personal 
right,  or  qualification. 

III.  A  republic,  or  democracy,  where  the  people  at  large, 
either  collectively  or  by  representation,  constitute  the  legislature. 

The  separate  advantages  of  monarchy  are,  unity  of  council, 
activity,  decision,  secrecy,  despatch  ;  the  military  strength  and 
energy  which  result  from  these  qualities  of  government ;  the  ex- 
clusion of  popular  and  aristocratical  contentions  ;  the  preventing, 
by  a  known  rule  of  succession,  of  all  competition  for  the  supreme 
power;  and  thereby  repressing  the  hopes,  intrigues,  and  danger- 
ous ambition  of  aspiring  citizens. 

The  mischiefs,  or  rather  the  dangers,  of  monarchy  are,  tyran- 
ny, expense,  exaction,  military  domination ;  unnecessary  wars, 
waged  to  gratify  the  passions  of  an  individual;  risk  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  reigning  prince  :  ignorance  in  the  governours  of  the 
interests  and  accommodation  of  the  people,  and  a  consequent  defi- 
ciency of  salutary  regulations;  want  of  constancy  and  uniformity 
in  the  rules  of  government,  and,  proceeding  from  thence,  insecuri- 
ty of  person  and  property. 

The  separate  advantage  of  an  aristocracy  consists  in  the  wis- 
dom which  may  be  expected  from  experience  and  education ; — a 
permanent  council  naturally  possesses  experience ;  and  the  mem- 
bers, who  succeed  to  their  places  in  it  by  inheritance,  will,  proba- 
bly, be  trained  and  educated  with  a  view  to  the  stations,  which 
they  are  destined  by  their  birth  to  occupy. 

The  mischiefs  of  an  aristocracy  are,  dissensions  in  the  rul- 
ing orders  of  the  state,  which,  from  the  want  of  a  common  su- 
periour,  are  liable  to  proceed  to  the  most  desperate  extremities; 
oppression  of  the  lower  orders  by  the  privileges  of  the  higher, 
and  by  laws  partial  to  the  separate  interest  of  the  law-makers. 

The  advantages  of  a  republic  are,  liberty  or  exemption  from 
needless  restrictions ;  equal  laws ;  regulations  adapted  to  the 
wants  and  circumstances  of  the  people;  public  spirit,  frugality, 
averseness  to  war;  the  opportunities  which  democratic  assemblies 
afford  to  men  of  every  description,  of  producing  their  abilities  and 
counsels  to  public  observation,  and  the  exciting  thereby,  and  call- 


294j  of  different  forms 

ing  forth  to  the  service  of  the  commonwealth,  the  faculties  of  itg 
best  citizens. 

The  evils  of  a  republic  are,  dissensions,  tumults,  faction ; 
the  attempts  of  powerful  citizens  to  possess  themselves  of  the 
empire;  the  confusion,  rage,  and  clamour,  which  are  the  inevit- 
able consequences  of  assembling  multitudes,  and  of  propounding 
questions  of  state  to  the  discussion  of  the  people ;  the  delay  and 
disclosure  of  public  counsels  and  designs;  and  the  imbecility  of 
measures  retarded  by  the  necessity  of  obtaining  the  consent  of 
numbers :  lastly,  the  oppression  of  the  provinces  which  are  not 
admitted  to  a  participation  in  the  legislative  power. 

A  mixed  government  is  composed  by  the  combination  of  two  or 
more  of  the  simple  forms  of  government  above  described  ; — and 
in  whatever  proportion  each  form  enters  into  the  constitution  of 
a  government,  in  the  same  proportion  may  both  the  advantages 
and  evils,  which  we  have  attributed  to  that  form,  be  expected  ; 
that  is,  those  are  the  uses  to  be  maintained  and  cultivated  in 
each  part  of  the  constitution,  and  these  are  the  dangers  to  be 
provided  against  in  each.  Thus,  if  secrecy  and  despatch  be 
truly  enumerated  amongst  the  separate  excellencies  of  regal  gov- 
ernment, then  a  mixed  government,  which  retains  monarchy  in 
one  part  of  its  constitution,  should  be  careful  that  the  other 
estates  of  the  empire  do  not,  by  an  officious  and  inquisitive  inter- 
ference with  the  executive  functions,  which  are,  or  ought  to  be, 
reserved  to  the  administration  of  the  prince,  interpose  delays,  or 
divulge  what  it  is  expedient  to  conceal.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
profusion  exaction,  military  domination,  and  needless  wars,  be 
justly  accounted  natural  properties  of  monarchy,  in  its  simple 
unqualified  form  ;  then  are  these  the  objects  to  which,  in  a  mixed 
government,  the  aristocratic  and  popular  part  of  the  constitution 
ought  to  direct  their  vigilance;  the  dangers  against  which  they 
should  raise  and  fortify  their  barriers;  these  are  departments  of 
sovereignty,  over  which  a  power  of  inspection  and  control  ought 
to  be  deposited  with  the  people. 

The  same  observation  may  be  repeated  of  all  the  other  advan- 
tages and  inconveniences  which  have  been  ascribed  to  the  several 
simple  forms  of  government ;  and  affords  a  rule  whereby  to  direct 
the  construction,  improvements,  and  administration  of  mixed  gov- 
ernments, subjected  however  to  this  remark,  that  a  quality  some, 
times  results  from  the  conjunction  of  two  simple  forms  of  govern- 


OF  GOVERNMENT,  gg5 

meat,  which  belongs  not  to  the  separate  existence  of  either :  thus 
corruption,  which  has  no  place  in  an  absolute  monarchy,  and  lit- 
tle in  a  pure  republic,  is  sure  to  gain  admission  into  a  constitution 
which  divides  the  supreme  power  between  an  executive  magistrate 
and  a  popular  council. 

An  hereditary  monarchy  is  universally  to  be  preferred  to  an 
elective  monarchy.  The  confession  of  every  writer  on  the  subject 
of  civil  government,  the  experience  of  ages,  the  example  of  Po- 
land, and  of  the  papal  dominions,  seem  to  place  this  amongst  the 
few  indubitable  maxims  which  the  science  of  politics  admits  of. 
A  crown  is  too  splendid  a  prize  to  be  conferred  upon  merit :  the 
passions  or  interest  of  the  electors  exclude  all  consideration  of 
the  qualities  of  the  competitors.  The  same  observation  holds 
concerning  the  appointments  to  any  office  which  is  attended  with 
a  great  share  of  power  or  emolument.  Nothing  is  gained  by  a 
popular  choice  worth  the  dissensions,  tumults,  and  interruption  of 
regular  industry,  with  which  it  is  inseparably  attended.  Add  to 
this,  that  a  king,  who  owes  his  elevation  to  the  event  of  a  contest, 
or  to  any  other  cause  than  a  fixed  rule  of  succession,  will  be  apt 
to  regard  one  part  of  his  subjects  as  the  associates  of  his  fortune, 
and  the  other  as  conquered  foes.  Nor  should  it  be  forgotten, 
amongst  the  advantages  of  an  hereditary  monarchy  that,  as  plans 
of  national  improvement  and  reform  are  seldom  brought  to  matur- 
ity by  the  exertions  of  a  single  reign,  a  nation  cannot  attain  to  the 
degree  of  happiness  and  prosperity  to  which  it  is  capable  of  being 
carried,  unless  an  uniformity  of  counsels,  a  consistency  of  public 
measures  and  designs,  be  coutinued  through  a  succession  of  ages. 
This  benefit  may  be  expected  with  greater  probability  where  the 
supreme  power  descends  in  the  same  race,  and  where  each  prince 
succeeds,  in  some  sort,  to  the  aim,  pursuits,  and  disposition  of 
his  ancestor,  than  if  the  crown,  at  every  change,  devolve  upon  a 
stranger,  whose  first  care  will  commonly  be  to  pull  down  what 
his  predecessor  had  built  up  ;  and  to  substitute  systems  of  admin- 
istration, which  must  in  their  turn,  give  way  to  the  more  favour- 
ite novelties  of  the  next  successor. 

Aristocracies  are  of  two  kinds.  Firsf^  where  the  power  of 
the  nobility  belongs  to  them  in  their  collective  capacity  alone ; 
that  is,  where,  although  the  government  reside  in  an  assembly  of 
the  order,  yet  the  members  of  that  assembly  separately  and  indi- 
vidually possess  no  authority  or  privilege  beyond  the  rest  of  the 


gg5  OF  DIFFERENT  FORMS 

community : — this  describes  the  constitution  of  Venice.  Secondly, 
where  the  nobles  are  severally  invested  with  great  personal  power 
and  immunities,  and  where  the  power  of  the  senate  is  little  more 
than  the  aggregated  power  of  the  individuals  who  compose  it : — 
this  is  the  constitution  of  Poland.  Of  these  two  forms  of  govern- 
ment, the  first  is  more  tolerable  than  the  last ;  for,  although  the 
members  of  a  senate  should  many,  or  even  all  of  them,  be  profli- 
gate enough  to  abuse  the  authority  of  their  stations  in  the  prose- 
cution of  private  designs,  yet,  not  being  all  under  a  temptation 
to  the  same  injustice,  not  having  all  the  same  end  to  gain,  it 
would  still  be  difficult  to  obtain  the  consent  of  a  majority  to  any 
specific  act  of  oppression  which  the  iniquity  of  an  individual 
might  prompt  him  to  propose  :  or,  if  the  will  were  the  same,  the 
power  is  more  confined  ;  one  tyrant,  where  the  tyranny  reside  in  a 
single  person,  or  a  senate,  cannot  exercise  oppression  at  so  many 
places,  at  the  same  time,  as  it  may  be  carried  on  by  the  dominion 
of  a  numerous  nobility  over  their  respective  vassals  and  depend- 
ents. Of  all  species  of  domination,  this  is  the  most  odious:  the 
freedom  and  satisfaction  of  private  life  are  more  constrained  and 
harassed  by  it  than  by  the  most  vexatious  law,  or  even  by  the 
lawless  will  of  an  arbitrary  monarch,  from  whose  knowledge,  and 
from  whose  injustice,  the  greatest  part  of  his  subjects  are  remov- 
ed by  their  distance,  or  concealed  by  their  obscurity. 

Europe  exhibits  more  than  one  modern  example,  where  the 
people,  aggrieved  by  the  exactions,  or  provoked  by  the  enormities, 
of  their  immediate  superiours,  have  joined  with  the  reigning  prince 
in  the  overthrow  of  the  aristocracy,  deliberately  exchanging  their 
condition  for  the  miseries  of  despotism.  About  the  middle  of  the 
last  century,  the  commons  of  Denmark,  weary  of  the  oppressions 
which  they  had  long  suffered  from  the  nobles,  and  exasperated  by 
some  recent  insults,  presented  themselves  at  the  foot  of  the  throne 
with  a  formal  offer  of  their  consent  to  establish  unlimited  domin- 
ion in  the  king.  The  revolution  in  Sweden,  still  more  lately 
brought  about  with  the  acquiescence,  not  to  say  the  assistance,  of 
the  people,  owed  its  success  to  the  same  cause,  namely,  to  the 
prospect  of  deliverance  that  it  afforded  from  the  tyranny  which 
their  nobles  exercised  under  the  old  constitution.  In  England 
the  people  beheld  the  depression  of  the  barons,  under  the  house 
of  Tudor,  with  satisfaction,  although  they  saw  the  crown  acquiring 
thereby  a  power  which  no  limitations  that  the  constitution  had 


OF  GOVERNMENT.  gQ^ 

then  provided  were  likely  to  confine.  The  lesson  to  be  drawn 
from  such  events  is  this,  that  a  mixed  government,  which  admits 
a  patrician  order  into  its  constitution,  ought  to  circumscribe  the 
personal  privileges  of  the  nobility,  especially  claims  of  hereditary 
jurisdiction  and  local  authority,  with  a  jealousy  equal  to  the  solici- 
tude with  which  it  wishes  its  own  preservation.  For  nothing  so 
alienates  the  minds  of  the  people  from  the  government  under 
which  they  live,  by  a  perpetual  sense  of  annoyance  and  inconven- 
iency,  or  so  prepares  them  for  the  practices  of  an  enterprising 
prince  or  a  factious  demagogue,  as  the  abuse  which  almost  al- 
ways accompanies  the  existence  of  separate  immunities. 

Amongst  the  inferiour,  but  by  no  means  inconsiderable  advan- 
tages of  a  democratic  constitution,  or  of  a  constitution  in  which 
the  people  partake  of  the  power  of  legislation,  the  following 
should  not  be  neglected. 

I.  The  direction  which  it  gives  to  the  education,  studies,  and 
pursuits  of  the  superiour  orders  of  the  community.  The  share 
which  this  has  in  forming  the  public  manners  and  national  char- 
acter is  very  important.  In  countries,  in  which  the  gentry  are 
excluded  from  all  concern  in  the  government,  scarcely  any  thing 
is  left  which  leads  to  advancement,  but  the  profession  of  arms. 
They  who  do  not  addict  themselves  to  this  profession  (and  mis- 
erable must  that  country  be,  which  constantly  employs  the  mili- 
tary service  of  a  great  proportion  of  any  order  of  its  subjects)  are 
commonly  lost  by  the  mere  want  of  object  and  destination  ;  that 
is,  they  either  fall,  without  reserve,  into  the  most  sottish  habits 
of  animal  gratification,  or  entirely  devote  themselves  to  the  at- 
tainment of  those  futile  arts  and  decorations  which  compose  the 
business  and  recommendations  of  a  court  :  on  the  other  hand, 
where  the  whole,  or  any  effective  portion  of  civil  power  is  pos- 
sessed by  a  popular  assembly,  more  serious  pursuits  will  be  en- 
couraged ;  purer  morals,  and  a  more  intellectual  character,  will 
engage  the  public  esteem  ;  those  faculties,  which  qualify  men 
for  deliberation  and  debate,  and  which  are  the  fruit  of  sober  hab- 
its, of  early  and  long  continued  application,  will  be  roused  and 
animated  by  the  reward,  which,  of  all  others,  most  readily  awakens 
the  ambition  of  the  human  mind,  political  dignity  and  importance. 

II.  Popular  elections  procure  to  the  common  people  courtesy 
from  their  superiours.  That  contemptuous  and  overbearing  in- 
solence, with  which  the  lower  orders  of  the  community  are  wont 

38 


£98  OP  DIFFERENT  FORMS 

to  be  treated  by  the  higher,  is  greatly  mitigated  where  the  pea- 
pie  have  something  to  give.  The  assiduity  with  which  their 
favour  is  sought  upon  these  occasions,  serves  to  generate  settled 
habits  of  condescension  and  respect ;  and  as  human  life  is  more 
embittered  by  affronts  than  injuries,  whatever  contributes  to  pro- 
cure mildness  and  civility  of  manners  towards  those  who  are  most 
liable  to  suffer  from  a  contrary  behaviour,  corrects,  with  the  pride, 
in  a  great  measure  the  evil  of  inequality,  and  deserves  to  be  ac- 
counted amongst  the  most  generous  institutions  of  social  life. 

III.  The  satisfactions  which  the  people  in  free  governments 
derive  from  the  knowledge  and  agitation  of  political  subjects ; 
such  as  the  proceedings  and  debates  of  the  senate ;  the  conduct 
and  characters  of  ministers ;  the  revolutions,  intrigues,  and 
contentions  of  parties ;  and,  in  general,  from  the  discussion  of 
publie  measures,  questions,  and  occurrences.  Subjects  of  this 
sort  excite  just  enough  of  interest  and  emotion  to  afford  a  moderate 
engagement  to  the  thoughts,  without  rising  to  any  painful  degree 
of  anxiety,  or  ever  leaving  a  fixed  oppression  upon  the  spirits  : — 
and  what  is  this,  but  the  end  and  aim  of  all  those  amusements, 
which  compose  so  much  of  the  business  of  life  and  of  the  value 
of  riches  ?  For  my  part,  (and  I  believe  it  to  be  the  case  with 
most  men  who  are  arrived  at  the  middle  age,  and  occupy  the 
middle  classes  of  life,)  had  I  all  the  money,  which  I  pay  in  taxes 
to  government,  at  liberty  to  lay  out  upon  amusement  and 
diversion,  I  know  not  whether  I  could  make  choice  of  any  in  which 
I  could  find  greater  pleasure  than  what  I  receive  from  expecting, 
hearing,  and  relating  public  news ;  reading  parliamentary  debates 
and  proceedings;  canvassing  the  political  arguments,  projects, 
predictions,  and  intelligence,  which  are  conveyed,  by  various 
channels,  to  every  corner  of  the  kingdom.  These  topics,  exciting 
universal  curiosity,  and  being  such  as  almost  every  man  is  ready 
to  form  and  prepared  to  deliver  his  opinion  about,  greatly  promote, 
and,  I  think,  improve  conversation.  They  render  it  more  rational 
and  more  innocent.  They  supply  a  substitute  for  drinking,  gam- 
ing, scandal,  and  obscenity.  Now  the  secrecy,  the  jealousy,  the 
solitude,  and  precipitation  of  despotic  governments,  exclude  all 
this.  But  the  loss,  you  say,  is  trifling.  I  know  that  it  is  possi- 
ble to  render  even  the  mention  of  it  ridiculous,  by  representing  it 
as  the  idle  employment  of  the  most  insignificant  part  of  the  nation, 
the  folly  of  village-statesmen  and  coffee-house  politieians  :  but  I 


OF  GOVERNMENT-  299 

allow  nothing  to  be  a  trifle  which  ministers  to  the  harmless  gratifi- 
cation of  multitudes;  nor  any  order  of  men  to  be  insignificant? 
whose  number  bears  a  respectable  proportion  to  the  sum  of  the 
whole  community. 

We  have  been  accustomed  to  an  opinion,  that  a  republican 
form  of  government  suits  ouly  with  the  affairs  of  a  small  state  : 
which  opinion  is  founded  in  the  consideration,  that  unless  the 
people,  in  every  district  of  the  empire,  be  admitted  to  a  share  in 
the  national  representation,  the  government  is  not,  as  to  them,  a 
republic;  that  elections,  where  the  constituents  are  numerous, 
and  dispersed  through  a  wide  extent  of  country,  are  conducted 
with  difficulty,  or  rather,  indeed,  managed  by  the  intrigues  and 
combinations  of  a  few,  who  are  situated  near  the  place  of  election, 
each  voter  considering  his  single  suffrage  as  too  minute  a  portion 
of  the  general  interest  to  deserve  his  care  or  attendance,  much 
less  to  be  worth  any  opposition  to  influence  and  application  ;  that 
whilst   we  contract  the  representation  within  a  compass  small 
enough  to  admit  of  orderly  debate,  the  interest  of  the  constituent 
becomes  too  small,  of  the  representative  too  great.     It  is  difficult 
also  to  maintain  any  connexion  between  them.     He  who  repre- 
sents  two   hundred  thousand  is   necessarily  a  stranger  to  the 
greatest  part  of  those  who   elect  him;  and  when  his  interest 
among  them  ceases  to  depend  upon  an  acquaintance  with  their 
persons  and  character,  or  a  care  or  knowledge  of  their  affairs  ; 
when  such  a  representative  finds  the  treasures  and  honours  of  a 
great  empire  at  the  disposal  of  a  few,  and  himself  one  of  the  few, 
there  is  little  reason  to  hope  that  he  will  not  prefer  to  his  public 
duty  those  temptations  of  personal   aggrandizement  which  his 
situation   offers,  and  which  the  price   of  his  vote  will  always 
purchase. ,  All  appeal  to  the  people  is  precluded  by  the  impossi- 
bility of  collecting  a  sufficient  proportion  of  their  force  and  num- 
bers.    The  factions  and  the  unanimity  of  the  senate  are  equally 
dangerous.     Add  to  these  considerations,  that  in  a  democratic 
constitution  the  mechanism  is  too  complicated,  and  the  motions 
too  slow,  for  the  operations  of  a  great  empire ;  whose  defence 
and  government  require  execution  and  despatch,  in  proportion  to 
the  magnitude,  extent,   and  variety  of  its  concerns.     There  is 
weight,  no  doubt,  in  these  reasons ;  but  much  of  the  objection 
seems  to  be  done  away  by  the  contrivance  of  a  federal  republic, 
which,  distributing  the  country  into  districts  of  a  commodious 


§00  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

extent,  and  leaving  to  each  district  its  internal  legislation, 
reserves  to  a  convention  of  the  states  the  adjustment  of  their  rela- 
tive claims;  the  levying,  direction,  and  government  of  the  com- 
mon force  of  the  confederacy ;  the  requisition  of  subsidies  for  the 
support  of  this  force ;  the  making  of  peace  and  war ;  the  enter- 
ing into  treaties  ;  the  regulation  of  foreign  commerce  j  the  equal- 
ization of  duties  upon  imports,  so  as  to  prevent  the  defrauding 
of  the  revenue  of  one  province  by  smuggling  articles  of  taxation 
from  the  borders  of  another ;  and  likewise  so  as  to  guard  against 
undue  partialities  in  the  encouragement  of  trade.  To  what  limits 
such  a  republic  might,  without  inconveniency,  enlarge  its  domin- 
ions, by  assuming  neighbouring  provinces  into  the  confederation  ; 
or  how  far  it  is  capable  of  uniting  the  liberty  of  a  small  common- 
wealth with  the  safety  of  a  powerful  empire  ;  or  whether,  amongst 
co-ordinate  powers,  dissensions,  and  jealousies  would  not  be  likely 
to  arise,  which,  for  want  of  a  common  superiour,  might  proceed 
to  fatal  extremities,  are  questions,  upon  which  the  records  of 
mankind  do  not  authorize  us  to  decide  with  tolerable  certainty. 
The  experiment  is  about  to  be  tried  in  America  upon  a  large  scale. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  THE  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

BY  the  constitution  of  a  country,  is  meant  so  much  of  its 
law,  as  relates  to  the  designation  and  form  of  the  legislature:  the 
rights  and  functions  of  the  several  parts  of  the  legislative  body ; 
the  construction,  office,  and  jurisdiction  of  courts  of  justice.  The 
constitution  is  one  principal  division,  section,  or  title,  of  the  code 
of  public  laws ;  distinguished  from  the  rest  only  by  the  superiour 
importance  of  the  subject  of  which  it  treats.  Therefore  the  terms 
constitutional  and  unconstitutional  mean  legal  and  illegal.  The 
distinction  and  the  ideas,  which  these  terms  denote,  are  founded 
in  the  same  authority  with  the  law  of  the  land  upon  any  other 
subject ;  and  to  be  ascertained  by  the  same  inquiries.  In  England 
the  system  of  public  jurisprudence  is  made  up  of  acts  of  parlia- 
ment, of  decisions  of  courts  of  law,  and  of  immemorial  usages  : 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION,  3Qj 

consequently,  these  are  the  principles  of  which  the  English  con- 
stitution itself  consists,  the  sources  from  which  all  our  knowledge 
of  its  nature  and  limitations  is  to  he  deduced,  and  the  authorities 
to  which  all  appeal  ought  to  be  made,  and  by  which  every  con- 
stitutional doubt  and  question  can  alone  be  decided.  This  plain 
and  intelligible  definition  is  the  more  necessary  to  be  preserved 
in  our  thoughts,  as  some  writers  upon  the  subject  absurdly  con- 
found what  is  constitutional  with  what  is  expedient ;  pronouncing 
forthwith  a  measure  to  be  unconstitutional,  which  they  adjudge 
in  any  respect  to  be  detrimental  or  dangerous :  whilst  others, 
again  ascribe  a  kind  of  transcendent  authority,  or  mysterious 
sanctity,  to  the  constitution,  as  if  it  were  founded  in  some  higher 
original  than  that  which  gives  force  and  obligation  to  the  ordi- 
nary laws  and  statutes  of  the  realm,  or  were  inviolable  on  any 
other  account  than  its  intrinsic  utility.  An  act  of  parliament  in 
England,  can  never  be  unconstitutional,  in  the  strict  and  proper 
acceptation  of  the  term  5  in  a  lower  sense  it  may,  viz.  when  it 
militates,  with  the  spirit,  contradicts  the  analogy,  or  defeats  the 
provision  of  other  laws,  made  to  regulate  the  form  of  government. 
Even  that  flagitious  abuse  of  their  trust,  by  which  a  parliament 
of  Henry  the  Eighth  conferred  upon  the  king's  proclamation  the 
authority  of  law,  was  unconstitutional  only  in  this  latter  sense. 

Most  of  those  who  treat  of  the  British  constitution  consider  it  fe 
as  a  scheme  of  government  formally  planned  and  contrived  by 
our  ancestors,  in  some  certain  era  of  our  national  history,  and  as 
set  up  in  pursuance  of  such  regular  plan  and  design.  Something 
of  this  sort  is  secretly  supposed,  or  referred  to,  in  the  expressions 
of  those  who  speak  of  the  "  principle  of  the  constitution,"  of 
bringing  back  the  constitution  to  its  "  first  principles,"  of  restor- 
ing it  to  its  "  original  purity,"  or  "  primitive  model."  Now  this 
appears  to  me  an  erroneous  conception  of  the  subject.  No  such 
plan  was  ever  formed,  consequently  no  such  first  principles,  orig- 
inal model,  or  standard,  exist.  1  mean  there  never  was  a  date 
or  point  of  time  in  our  history,  when  the  government  of  England 
was  to  be  set  up  anew,  and  when  it  was  referred  to  any  single 
person,  or  assembly,  or  committee,  to  frame  a  charter  for  the  future 
government  of  the  country:  or  when  a  constitution,  so  prepared 
and  digested,  was  by  common  consent  received  and  established. 
In  the  time  of  the  civil  wars,  or  rather  between  the  death  of 
Charles  the  First,  and  the  restoration  of  his  son,  many  such  pro 


§02  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

jeets  were  published,  but  none  were  carried  into  execution.  The 
great  charter,  and  the  bill  of  rights,  Mere  wise  and  strenuous  efforts 
to  obtain  security  against  certain  abuses  of  regal  power,  by  which 
the  subject  had  been  formerly  aggrieved  ;  but  these  were,  either 
of  them,  much  too  partial  modifications  of  the  constitution  to  give 
it  a  new  original.  The  constitution  of  England,  like  that  of 
most  countries  in  Europe,  hath  grown  out  of  occasion  and  emer- 
gency; from  the  fluctuating  policy  of  different  ages  ;  from  the 
contentions,  successes,  interests,  and  opportunities  of  different  or- 
ders and  parties  of  men  in  the  commuuity.  It  resembles  one  of 
those  old  mansious,  which,  instead  of  being  built  all  at  once,  after" 
a  regular  plan,  and  according  to  the  rules  of  architecture  at  pres- 
ent established,  has  been  reared  in  different  ages  of  the  art,  has 
been  altered  from  time  to  time,  and  has  been  continually  receiving 
additions  and  repairs  suited  to  the  taste,  fortune,  or  conveniency 
of  its  successive  proprietors.  In  such  a  building  we  look  in  vain, 
for  the  elegance  and  proportion,  for  the  just  order  and  correspon- 
dence of  parts,  which  we  expect  in  a  modern  edifice  ;  and  which, 
external  symmetry,  after  all,  contributes  much  more  perhaps  to 
the  amusement  of  the  beholder,  than  the  accommodation  of  the 
inhabitant. 

In  the  British,  and  possibly  in  all  other  constitutions,  there  ex- 
ists a  wide  difference  between  the  actual  state  of  the  government 
and  the  theory.  The  one  results  from  the  other;  but  still  they 
are  different.  When  we  contemplate  the  theory  of  the  British 
government,  we  see  the  king  invested  with  the  most  absolute  per- 
sonal impunity;  with  a  power  of  rejecting  laws,  which  have  been 
resolved  upon  by  both  houses  of  parliament ;  of  conferring  by  his 
charter,  upon  any  set  or  succession  of  men  he  pleases,  the  privi- 
lege of  sending  representatives  into  one  house  of  parliament,  as 
by  his  immediate  appointment,  he  can  place  whom  he  will  in  the 
other.  What  is  this,  a  foreigner  might  ask,  but  a  more  circuitous 
despotism  ?  Yet,  when  we  turn  our  attention  from  the  legal  ex- 
tent to  the  actual  exercise  of  royal  authority  in  England,  we  see 
these  formidable  prerogatives  dwindled  into  mere  ceremonies  ; 
and,  in  their  stead,  a  sure  and  commanding  influence,  of  which 
the  constitution,  it  seems,  is  totally  ignorant,  growing  out  of  that 
enormous  patronage,  which  the  increased  territory  and  opulence 
of  the  empire  have  placed  in  the  disposal  of  the  executive  magis- 
trate, 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  303 

Upon  questions  of  reform,  the  habit  of  reflection  to  be  en- 
oourged,  is  a  sober  comparison  of  the  constitution  under  which 
we  live,  not  with  models  of  speculative  perfection,  but  with  the 
actual  chance  of  obtaining  a  better.  This  turn  of  thought  will 
generate  a  political  disposition,  equally  removed  from  that  puerile 
admiration  of  present  establishments,  which  sees  no  fault,  and 
can  endure  no  change,  and  that  distempered  sensibility,  which  is 
alive  only  to  perceptions  of  inconveniency,  and  is  too  impatient 
to  be  delivered  from  the  uneasiness  which  it  feels,  to  compute 
either  the  peril  or  expense  of  the  remedy.  Political  innovations 
commonly  produce  many  effects  beside  those  that  are  intended. 
The  direct  consequence  is  often  the  least  important.  Incidental, 
remote,  and  unthought  of  evils  or  advantages  frequently  exceed 
the  good  that  is  designed,  or  the  mischief  that  is  foreseen.  It  is 
from  the  silent  and  unobserved  operation,  from  the  obscure  pro- 
gress of  causes  set  at  work  for  different  purposes,  that  the  greatest 
revolutions  take  their  rise.  AVhen  Elizabeth,  and  her  immediate 
successor,  applied  themselves  to  the  encouragement  and  regula- 
tion of  trade  by  many  wise  laws,  they  knew  not,  that,  together 
with  wealth  and  industry,  they  were  diffusing  a  consciousness  of 
strength  and  independency,  which  would  not  long  endure,  under 
the  forms  of  a  mixed  government,  the  dominion  of  arbitrary 
princes.  When  it  was  debated  whether  the  mutiny  act,  the  law 
by  which  the  army  is  governed  and  maintained,  should  be  tem- 
porary or  perpetual,  little  else  probably  occurred  to  the  advocates 
of  an  annual  bill,  than  the  expediency  of  retaining  a  control  over 
the  most  dangerous  prerogative  of  the  crown, — the  direction  and 
command  of  a  standing  army  j  whereas,  in  its  effect,  this  single 
reservation  has  altered  the  whole  frame  and  quality  of  the  British 
constitution.  For  since,  in  consequence  of  the  military  system 
which  prevails  in  neighbouring  and  rival  nations,  as  well  as  on 
account  of  the  internal  exigencies  of  government,  a  standing  army 
has  become  essential  to  the  safety  and  administration  of  the  em- 
pire, it  enables  parliament,  by  discontinuing  this  necessary  provi- 
sion, so  to  enforce  its  resolutions  upon  any  other  subject,  as  to  render 
the  king's  dissent  to  a  law,  which  has  received  the  approbation 
of  both  houses,  too  dangerous  an  experiment  any  longer  to  be  ad- 
vised. A  contest  between  the  king  and  parliament  cannot  now 
be  persevered  in  without  a  dissolution  of  the  government.  Lastly, 
when  the  constitution  conferred  upon  the  crown,  the  nomination 


304*  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

to  all  employments  in  the  public  service,  the  authors  of  this  ar= 
rangement  were  led  to  it,  by  the  obvious  propriety  of  leaving  to 
a  master  the  choice  of  his  servants;  and  by  the  manifest  incon- 
veniency  of  engaging  the  national  council,  upon  every  vacancy, 
in  those  personal  contests  which  attend  elections  to  places  of 
honour  and  emolument.  Our  ancestors  did  not  observe  that  this 
disposition  added  an  influence  to  the  regal  office,  which,  as  the 
number  and  value  of  public  employments  increased,  would  super- 
sede in  a  great  measure  the  form,  and  change  the  character  of 
the  ancient  constitution.  They  knew  not,  what  the  experience 
and  reflection  of  modern  ages  has  discovered,  that  patronage  uni- 
versally is  power ;  that  he  who  possesses  in  a  sufficient  degree 
the  means  of  gratifying  the  desires  of  mankind  after  wealth  and 
distinction,  by  whatever  checks  and  forms  his  authority  may  be 
limited  or  disguised,  will  direct  the  management  of  public  affairs. 
Whatever  be  the  mechanism  of  the  political  engine,  he  will  guide 
the  motion.  These  instances  are  adduced  in  order  to  illustrate 
the  proposition  which  we  laid  down,  that,  in  politics,  the 
most  important  and  permanent  effects  have,  for  the  most  part, 
been  incidental  and  unforeseen  :  and  this  proposition  we  incul- 
cate, for  the  sake  of  'the  caution  which  it  teaches,  that  changes 
ought  not  to  be  adventured  upon  without  a  comprehensive  discern- 
ment of  the  consequences, — without  a  knowledge  as  well  of  the 
remote  tendency,  as  of  the  immediate  design.  The  courage  of  a 
statesman  should  resemble  that  of  a  commander,  who,  however 
regardless  of  personal  danger,  never  forgets,  that,  with  his  own, 
he  commits  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  a  multitude ;  and  who 
does  not  consider  it  as  any  proof  of  zeal  or  valour,  to  stake  the 
safety  of  other  men,  upon  the  success  of  a  perilous  or  desperate 
enterprise. 

There  is  one  end  of  civil  government  peculiar  to  a  good  con- 
stitution, namely,  the  happiness  of  its  subjects  ;  there  is  another 
end  essential  to  a  good  government,  but  common  to  it  with  many 
bad  ones, — its  own  preservation.  Observing  that  the  best  form 
of  government  would  be  defective,  which  did  not  provide  for  its 
own  permanency,  in  our  political  reasonings  we  consider  all  such 
provisions  as  expedient ;  and  are  content  to  accept  as  a  sufficient 
ground  for  a  measure,  or  law,  that  it  is  necessary  or  conducive  to 
the  preservation  of  the  constitution.  Yet,  in  truth,  such  provi- 
sions are  absolutely  expedient,  and  such  an  excuse  final,  only 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  305 

whilst  the  constitution  is  worth  preserving ;  that  is,  until  it  can 
be  exchanged  for  a  better.  I  premise  this  distinction,  because 
many  things  in  the  English,  as  in  every  constitution,  are  to  be 
vindicated  and  accounted  for,  solely  from  their  tendency  to  main- 
tain the  government  in  its  present  state,  and  the  several  parts  of 
it  in  possession  of  the  powers  which  the  constitution  has  assigned 
to  them  ;  and  because  I  would  wish  it  to  be  remarked  that  such 
a  consideration  is  always  subordinate  to  another, — the  value  and 
usefulness  of  the  constitution  itself. 

The  Government  of  England,  which  has  been  sometimes  called 
a  mixed  government,  sometimes  a  limited  monarchy,  is  formed  by 
a  combination  of  the  three  regular  species  of  government ;  the 
monarchy  residing  in  the  King  ;  the  aristocracy,  in  the  House  of 
Lords  ;  and  the  republic,  being  represented  by  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. The  perfection  intended  by  such  a  scheme  of  government 
is,  to  unite  the  advantages  of  the  several  simple  forms,  and  to  ex- 
clude the  inconveniences.  To  what  degree  this  purpose  is  at- 
tained or  attainable  in  the  British  constitution  ;  wherein  it  is  lost 
sight  of  or  neglected  ;  and  by  what  means  it  may  in  any  part  be 
promoted  with  better  success,  the  reader  will  be  enabled  to  judge, 
by  a  separate  recollection  of  these  advantages  and  inconveniences, 
as  enumerated  in  the  preceding  chapter,  and  a  distinct  applica- 
tion of  each  to  the  political  condition  of  this  country.  We  will 
present  our  remarks  upon  the  subject  in  a  brief  account  of  the 
expedients  by  which  the  British  constitution  provides, 
1st,  For  the  interest  of  its  subjects. 
3dly,  For  its  own  preservation. 

The  contrivances  for  the  first  of  these  purposes  are  the  fol- 
lowing : 

In  order  to  promote  the  establishment  of  salutary  public  laws, 
every  citizen  of  the  state  is  capable  of  becoming  a  member 
of  the  senate  ;  and  every  senator  possesses  the  right  of  pro- 
pounding to  the  deliberation  of  the  legislature  whatever  law  he 
pleases. 

Every  district  of  the  empire  enjoys  the  privilege  of  choosing 
representatives,  informed  of  the  interests  and  circumstances  and 
desires  of  their  constituents,  and  entitled  by  their  situation  to 
communicate  that  information  to  the  national  council.  The 
meanest  subject  has  some  one  whom  he  can  call  upon  to  bring 
forward  his  complaints  and  requests  to  public  attention. 
39 


306  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

By  annexing  the  rigbt  of  voting  for  members  of  the  House  of 
Commons  to  different  qualifications  in  different  places,  each  order 
and  profession  of  men  in  the  community  become  virtually  repre- 
sented ;  that  is,  men  of  all  orders  and  professions,  statesmen, 
courtiers,  country  gentlemen,  lawyers,  merchants,  manufacturers, 
soldiers,  sailors,  interested  in  the  prosperity,  and  experienced  in 
the  occupation  of  their  respective  professions,  obtain  seats  in 
parliament. 

The  elections,  at  the  same  time,  are  so  connected  with  the  in- 
fluence of  landed  property,  as  to  afford  a  certainty  that  a  consid- 
erable number  of  men  of  great  estates  will  be  returned  to  parlia- 
ment :  and  are  also  so  modified,  that  men  the  most  eminent  and 
successful  in  their  respective  professions,  are  the  most  likely,  by 
their  riches,  or  the  weight  of  their  stations,  to  prevail  in  these 
competitions. 

The  number,  fortune,  and  quality  of  the  members;  the  variety 
of  interests  and  characters  amongst  them ;  above  all,  the  tempo- 
rary duration  of  their  power,  and  the  change  of  men  which  every 
new  election  produces,  are  so  many  securities  to  the  public,  as 
well  against  the  subjection  of  their  judgments  to  any  external  dic- 
tation, as  against  the  formation  of  a  junto  in  their  own  body, 
sufficiently  powerful  to  govern  their  decisions. 

The  representatives  are  so  intermixed  with  the  constituents, 
and  the  constituents  with  the  rest  of  the  people,  that  they  cannot, 
without  a  partiality  too  flagrant  to  be  endured,  impose  any  burden 
upon  the  subject,  in  which  they  do  not  share  themselves ;  nor  scarce- 
ly can  they  adopt  an  advantageous  regulation,  in  which  their  own 
interests  will  not  participate  of  the  advantage. 

The  proceedings  and  debates  of  parliament,  and  the  parliamen- 
tary conduct  of  each  representative,  are  known  by  the  people  at 
large. 

The  representative  is  so  far  dependent  upon  the  constituent, 
and  political  importance  upon  public  favour,  that  a  member  of 
parliament  cannot  more  effectually  recommend  himself  to  emi- 
nence and  advancement  in  the  state,  than  by  contriving  and  pat- 
ronizing laws  of  public  utility. 

When  intelligence  of  the  condition,  wants,  and  occasions  of  the 
people,  is  thus  collected  from  every  quarter,  when  such  a  variety 
of  invention,  and  so  many  understandings,  are  set  at  work  upon 
the  subject,  it  may  be  presumed,  that  the  most  eligible  expedient, 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 


307 


remedy,  or  improvement,  will  occur  to  some  one  or  other :  dnd 
when  a  wise  counsel,  or  beneficial  regulation,  is  once  suggested, 
it  may  be  expected,  from  the  disposition  of  an  assembly  so  consti- 
tuted as  the  British  House  of  Commons  is,  that  it  cannot  fail  of 
receiving  the  approbation  of  a  majority. 

To  prevent  those  destructive  contentions  for  the  supreme  power, 
which  are  sure  to  take  place  where  the  members  of  the  state  do 
not  live  under  an  acknowledged  head,  and  a  known  rule  of  suc- 
cession ;  to  preserve  the  people  in  tranquility  at  home,  by  a  speedy 
and  vigorous  execution  of  the  laws ;  to  protect  their  interest 
abroad,  by  strength  and  energy  in  military  operations,  by  those 
advantages  of  decision,  secrecy,  and  despatch,  which  belong  to 
the  resolutions  of  monarchical  councils  ;— for  these  purposes,  the 
constitution  has  committed  the  executive  government  to  the  ad- 
ministration and  limited  authority  of  an  hereditary  king. 

In  the  defence  of  the  empire  ;  in  the  maintenance  of  its  power, 
dignity,  and  privileges,  with  foreign  nations ;  in  the  advancement 
of  its  trade  by  treaties  and  conventions  ;  and  in  the  providing  for 
the  general  administration  of  municipal  justice,  by  a  proper 
choice  and  ^appointment  of  magistrates,  the  inclination  of  the 
king  and  of  the  people  usually  coincides  :  in  this  part,  therefore, 
of  the  regal  office,  the  constitution  intrusts  the  prerogative  with 
ample  powers. 

The  dangers  principally  to  be  apprehended  from  regal  govern- 
ment, relate  to  the  two  articles  taxation  and  punishment.  In 
every  form  of  government,  from  which  the  people  are  excluded) 
it  is  the  interest  of  the  governors  to  get  as  much,  and  of  the  gov- 
erned to  give  as  little,  as  they  can  :  the  power  also  of  punishment, 
in  the  hands  of  an  arbitrary  prince,  oftentimes  becomes  an  engine 
of  extortion,  jealousy,  and  revenge.  Wisely,  therefore,  hath  the 
British  constitution  guarded  the  safety  of  the  people,  in  these 
two  points,  by  the  most  studious  precautions. 

Upon  that  of  taxation,  every  law  which,  by  the  remotest  con- 
struction, may  be  deemed  to  levy  money  upon  the  property  of  the 
subject,  must  originate,  that  is,  must  first  be  proposed  and  assent- 
ed to,  in  the  House  of  Commons :  by  which  regulation,  accom- 
panying the  weight  which  that  assembly  possesses  in  all  its  func- 
tions, the  levying  of  taxes  is  almost  exclusively  reserved  to  the 
popular  part  of  the  constitution,  who,  it  is  presumed,  will  net  tax 


308  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION, 

themselves,  nor  their  fellow  subjects,  without  being  first  convinced 
of  the  necessity  of  the  aids  which  they  graut. 

The  application  also  of  the  public  supplies,  is  watched  with 
the  same  circumspection  as  the  assessment.  Many  taxes  are 
annual ;  the  produce  of  others  is  mortgaged,  or  appropriated  to 
specific  services  ;  the  expenditure  of  all  of  them  is  accounted  for 
in  the  House  of  Commons  ;  as  computations  of  the  charge  of  the 
purpose,  for  which  they  are  wanted,  are  previously  submitted  to 
the  same  tribunal. 

In  the  infliction  of  punishment,  the  power  of  the  crown,  and  of 
the  magistrate  appointed  by  the  crown,  is  confined  by  the  most 
precise  limitations  :  the  guilt  of  the  offender  must  be  pronounced 
by  twelve  men  of  his  own  order,  indifferently  chosen  out  of  the 
county  where  the  offence  was  committed  :  the  punishment,  or  the 
limits  to  which  the  punishment  may  be  extended,  are  ascertained, 
and  affixed  to  the  crime,  by  laws  which  knew  not  the  person  of 
the  criminal. 

And  whereas  arbitrary  or  clandestine  confinement  is  the  injury 
most  to  be  dreaded  from  the  strong  hand  of  the  executive  govern- 
ment, because  it  deprives  the  prisoner  at  once  of  protection  and 
defence,  and  delivers  him  into  the  power,  and  to  the  malicious 
or  interested  designs,  of  his  enemies ;  the  constitution  has  pro- 
vided against  this  danger  with  double  solicitude.  The  ancient 
writ  of  habeas  corpus,  the  habeas  corpus  act  of  Charles  the  Second, 
and  the  practice  and  determinations  of  our  sovereign  courts  of 
justice  founded  upon  these  laws,  afford  a  complete  remedy  for 
every  conceivable  case  of  illegal  imprisonment.* 

*  Upon  complaint  in  writing  by,  or  on  behalf  of,  any  person  in  confinement, 
to  any  of  the  four  courts  of  Westminster  Hall,  in  term  time,  or  to  the  Lord 
Chancellor,  or  one  of  the  Judges,  in  the  vacation ;  and  upon  a  probable  reason 
being  suggested  to  question  the  legality  of  the  detention,  a  writ  is  issued  to 
the  person  in  whose  custody  the  complainant  is  alleged  to  be,  commanding 
him  within  a  certain  limited  and  short  time  to  produce  the  body  of  the  prisoner 
and  the  authority  under  which  he  is  detained.  Upon  the  return  of  the  writ, 
strict  and  instantaneous  obedience  to  which  is  enforced  by  very  severe  penal- 
ties, if  no  lawful  cause  of  imprisonment  appear,  the  court  or  judge,  before 
whom  the  prisoner  is  brought,  is  authorized  and  bound  to  discharge  him  ;  even 
though  he  may  have  been  committed  by  a  secretary,  or  other  high  officer  of 
state,  by  the  privy  council,  or  by  the  king  in  person :  so  that  no  subject  of  tbis 
realm  can  be  held  in  confinement  by  any  power,  or  under  any  pretence  what- 
ever, provided  he  can  find  means,  to  convey  his  complaint  to  one  of  the  four 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  OQg 

Treason  being  that  charge,  under  colour  of  which  the  destruc- 
tion of  an  obnoxious  individual  is  often  sought ;  and  government 
being  at  all  times  more  immediately  a  party  in  the  prosecution  ; 
the  law,  beside  the  general  care  with  which  it  watches  over  the 
safety  of  the  accused,  in  this  case,  sensible  of  the  unequal  contest 
in  which  the  subject  is  engaged,  has  assisted  his  defence  with  ex- 
traordinary indulgencies.  By  two  statutes,  enacted  since  the 
Revolution,  every  person  indicted  for  high  treason  shall  have  a 
copy  of  his  indictment,  a  list  of  the  witnesses  to  be  produced,  and 
of  the  jury  impannelled,  delivered  to  him  ten  days  before  the 
trial ;  he  is  also  permitted  to  make  his  defence  by  council :— - 
privileges  which  are  not  allowed  to  the  prisoner,  in  a  trial  for 
any  other  crime :  and,  what  is  of  more  importance  to  the  party 
than  all  the  rest,  the  testimony  of  two  witnesses,  at  the  least,  is 
required  to  convict  a  person  of  treason  ;  whereas,  one  positive 
witness  is  sufficient  in  almost  every  other  species  of  accusation. 

We  proceed,  in  the  second  place,  to  inquire  in  what  manner 
the  constitution  has  provided  for  its  own  preservation ;  that  is, 
in  what  manner  each  part  of  the  legislature  is  secured  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  the  powers  assigned  to  it,  from  the  encroachment  of 
the  other  parts.  The  security  is  sometimes  called  the  balance 
of  the  constitution  ;  and  the  political  equilibrium,  which  this 
phrase  denotes,  consists  in  two  contrivances  ; — a  balance  of  pow- 
er, and  a  balance  of  interest.  By  a  balance  of  power  is  meant, 
that  there  is  no  power  possessed  by  one  part  of  the  legislature, 
the  abuse,  or  excess  of  which  is  not  checked  by  some  antagonist 
power,  residing  in  another  part.  Thus  the  power  of  the  two 
houses  of  parliament  to  frame  laws  is  checked  by  the  king's  neg- 
ative ;  that,  if  laws  subversive  of  regal  government  should  ob- 
tain the  consent  of  parliament,  the  reigning  prince,  by  interpos- 
ing his  prerogative,  may  save  the  necessary  rights  and  authority 
of  his  station.  On  the  other  hand,  the  arbitrary  application  of 
this  negative  is  checked  by  the  privilege  which  parliament  pos- 
sesses, of  refusing  supplies  of  money  to  the  exigencies  of  the  king's 

courts  of  Westminster  Hall,  or,  during  their  recess,  to  any  of  the  Judges  of 
the  same,  unless  all  these  several  tribunals  agree  in  determining  his  imprison- 
ment to  be  legal.  He  may  make  application  to  them,  in  succession ;  and  if 
one  out  of  the  number  be  found,  who  thinks  the  prisoner  entitled  to  his  liberty, 
that  one  possesses  authority  to  restore  it  to  him. 


3X0  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.' 

administration.  The  constitutional  maxim,  "  tbat  the  king  can 
do  no  wrong,"  is  balanced  by  another  maxim,  not  less  constitu- 
tional, "that  the  illegal  commands  of  the  king  do  not  justify 
those  who  assist,  or  concur,  in  carrying  them  into  execution  ;"  and 
by  a  second  rule,  subsidiary  to  this,  "  that  the  acts  of  the  crown 
acquire  not  a  legal  force,  until  authenticated  by  the  subscription 
of  some  of  its  great  officers."  The  wisdom  of  this  contrivance  is 
worthy  of  observation.  As  the  king  could  not  be  punished,  with- 
out a  civil  war,  the  constitution  exempts  his  person  from  trial  or 
account  ;  but,  lest  this  impunity  should  encourage  a  licentious 
exercise  of  dominion,  various  obstacles  are  opposed  to  the  private 
will  of  the  sovereign,  when  directed  to  illegal  objects.  The  pleas- 
ure of  the  crown  must  be  announced  with  certain  solemnities,  and 
attested  by  certain  officers  of  state.  In  some  cases,  the  royal  or- 
der must  be  signified  by  a  secretary  of  state  ;  in  others,  it  must 
pass  under  the  privy  seal,  and,  in  many,  under  the  great  seal. 
And  when  the  king's  command  is  regularly  published,  no  mis- 
chief can  be  achieved  by  it,  without  the  ministry  and  compliance 
of  those  to  whom  it  is  directed.  Now  all  who  either  concur  in 
an  illegal  order  by  authenticating  its  publication  with  their  seal 
or  subscription,  or  who  in  any  manner  assist  in  carrying  it  into 
execution,  subject  themselves  to  prosecution  and  punishment,  for 
the  part  they  hare  taken  ;  and  are  not  permitted  to  plead  or  pro- 
duce the  command  of  the  king,  in  justification  of  their  obedience.* 
But  further  ;  the  power  of  the  crown  to  direct  the  military  force 
of  the  kingdom,  is  balanced  by  the  annual  necessity  of  resorting 
to  parliament  for  the  maintenance  and  government  of  that  force. 
The  power  of  the  king  to  declare  war,  is  checked  by  the  privilege 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  to  grant  or  withhold  the  supplies  by 

*  Amongst  the  checks,  which  parliament  holds  over  the  administration  of 
public  affairs,  I  forbear  to  mention  the  practice  of  addressing1  the  king,  to 
know  by  whose  advice  he  resolved  upon  a  particular  measure  ;  and  of  pun- 
ishing  the  authors  of  that  advice,  for  the  counsel  they  had  given.  Not  be- 
cause I  think  this  method  either  unconstitutional  or  improper,  but  for  this 
reason  ; — that  it  does  not  so  much  subject  the  king  to  the  control  of  parlia- 
ment,  as  it  supposes  him  to  be  already  in  subjection.  For  if  the  king  were 
so  far  out  of  the  reach  of  the  resentment  of  the  House  of  Commons,  as  to  be 
able,  with  safety,  to  refuse  the  information  requested,  or  to  take  upon  himself 
the  responsibility  inquired  after,  there  must  be  an  end  of  all  proceedings  found- 
ed in  this  mode  of  application. 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  gj£ 

which  the  war  must  be  carried  on.  The  king's  choice  of  his 
ministers  is  controlled  by  the  obligation  he  is  under  of  appoint- 
ing those  men  to  offices  in  the  state,  who  are  found  capable  of 
managing  the  affairs  of  his  government,  with  the  two  houses  of 
parliament.  Which  consideration  imposes  such  a  necessity  upon 
the  crown,  as  hath  in  a  great  measure  subdued  the  influence  of 
favouritism  ;  insomuch  that  it  is  become  no  uncommon  spectacle 
in  this  country,  to  see  men  promoted  by  the  king  to  the  highest 
offices  and  richest  preferments  which  he  has  in  his  power,  to  be- 
stow, who  have  been  distinguished  by  their  opposition  to  his  per- 
sonal inclinations. 

By  the  balance  of  interest,  which  accompanies  and  gives  efficacy 
to  the  balance  of  power,  is  meant  this: — that  the  respective  in- 
terests of  the  three  estates  of  the  empire  are  so  disposed  and 
adjusted,  that  whichever  of  the  three  shall  attempt  any  encroach- 
ment, the  other  two  will  unite  in  resisting  it.  If  the  king  should 
endeavour  to  extend  his  authority,  by  contracting  the  power  and 
privileges  of  the  Commons,  the  House  of  Lords  would  see  their 
own  dignity  endangered  by  every  advance  which  the  crown  made 
to  independency  upon  the  resolutions  of  parliament.  The  admis- 
sion of  arbitrary  power  is  no  less  formidable  to  the  grandeur  of 
the  aristocracy,  than  it  is  fatal  to  the  liberty  of  the  republic ;  that 
is,  it  would  reduce  the  nobility  from  the  hereditary  share  they 
possess  in  the  national  councils,  in  which  their  real  greatness 
eonsists,  to  the  being  made  a  part  of  the  empty  pageantry  of  a 
depotic  court.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  House  of  Commons 
should  intrench  upon  the  distinct  province,  or  usurp  the  estab- 
lished prerogative  of  the  crown,  the  House  of  Lords  would  re- 
ceive an  instant  alarm  from  every  new  stretch  of  popular  power. 
In  every  contest  in  which  the  king  may  be  engaged  with  the  re- 
presentative body,  in  defence  of  his  established  share  of  authority, 
he  will  find  a  sure  ally  in  the  collective  power  of  the  nobility. 
An  attachment  to  the  monarchy,  from  which  they  derive  their 
own  distinction  ;  the  allurements  of  a  court,  in  the  habits  and 
with  the  sentiments  of  which  they  have  been  brought  up ;  their 
hatred  of  equality,  and  of  all  levelling  pretensions,  which  may 
ultimately  affect  the  privileges,  or  even  the  existence  of  their 
order ;  in  short,  every  principle  and  every  prejudice  which  are  wont 
to  actuate  human  conduct,  will  determine  their  choice  to  the  side 
and  support  of  the  crown.     Lastly,  if  the  nobles  themselves  should 


3£sj  BMTISH  CONSTITUTION. 

attempt  to  revive  the  superiorities  which  their  ancestors  exercised 
under  the  feudal  constitution,  the  king  and  the  people  would  alike 
remember,  how  the  one  had  been  insulted,  and  the  other  enslaved, 
by  that  barbarous  tyranny.  They  would  forget  the  natural  op- 
position of  their  views  and  inclinations,  when  they  saw  themselves 
threatened  with  the  return  of  a  domination,  which  was  odious 
and  intolerable  to  both. 


The  reader  will  have  observed,  that  in  describing  the  British 
constitution,  little  notice  has  been  taken  of  the  House  of  Lords. 
The  proper  use  and  design  of  this  part  of  the  constitution,  are 
the  following :  First,  to  enable  the  king,  by  his  right  of  bestow- 
ing the  peerage,  to  reward  the  servants  of  the  public,  in  a  manner 
most  grateful  to  them,  and  at  a  small  expense  to  the  nation  ; 
secondly,  to  fortify  the  power  and  to  secure  the  stability  of  regal 
government,  by  an  order  of  men  naturally  allied  to  its  interests  ; 
and,  thirdly,  to  answer  a  purpose,  which,  though  of  superiour 
importance  to  the  other  two,  does  not  occur  so  readily  to  our  ob- 
servation; namely,  to  stem  the  progress  of  popular  fury.     Large 
bodies  of  men,  are  subject  to  sudden  frenzies.     Opinions  are  some- 
times circulated  amongst  a  multitude  without  proof  or  examina- 
tion, acquiring  confidence  and  reputation  merely  by  being  repeat- 
ed from  one  to  another;  and  passions  founded  upon  these  opinions, 
diffusing  themselves  with  a  rapidity,  which  can  neither  be  ac- 
counted for  nor  resisted,  may  agitate  a  country  with  the  most 
violent  commotions.     Now  the  only  way  to  stop  the  fermentation, 
is  to  divide  the  mass ;  that  is,  to  erect  different  orders  in  the  com- 
munity, with  separate  prejudices  and  interests.     And  this  may 
occasionally  become  the  use  of  an  hereditary  nobility,  invested 
with  a  share  of  legislation.     Averse  to  those  prejudices   which 
actuate  the   minds  of  the  vulgar;  accustomed  to  condemn  the 
clamour  of  the  populace ;  disdaining  to  receive  laws  and  opinions 
from  their  inferiours  in  rank,  they  will  oppose  resolutions  which 
are  founded  in  the  folly  and  violence  of  the  lower  part  of  the 
community.     Were  the  voice  of  the  people  always  dictated  by 
reflection ;  did  every  man,  or  even  one  man  in  an  hundred,  think 
for  himself,  or  actually  consider  the  measure  he  was  about  to 
approve  or  censure;  or  even  were  the' common  people  tolerably 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  3£3 

steadfast  in  the  judgment  which  they  formed,  I  should  hold  the 
interference  of  a  superiour  order  not  only  superfluous,  but  wrong ; 
for  when  every  thing  is  allowed  to  difference  of  rank  and  educa- 
tion, which  the  actual  state  of  these  advantages  deserves,  that, 
after  all,  is  most  likely  to  be  right  and  expedient,  which  appears 
to  be  so  to  the  separate  judgment  and  decision  of  a  great  majority 
of  the  nation  ;  at  least,  that,  in  general,  is  right  for  them,  which 
is  agreeable  to  their  fixed  opinions  and  desires.  But  when  we 
observe  what  is  urged  as  the  public  opinion,  to  be,  in  truth,  the 
opinion  only,  or  perhaps  the  feigned  profession,  of  a  few  crafty 
leaders;  that  the  numbers  who  join  in  the  cry,  serve  only  to  swell 
and  multiply  the  sound  without  any  accession  of  judgment,  or 
exercise  of  understanding ;  and  that  oftentimes  the  wisest  coun- 
sels, have  been  thus  overborne  by  tumult  and  uproar; — we  may 
conceive  occasions  to  arise,  in  which  the  commonwealth  may  be 
saved  by  the  reluctance  of  the  nobility,  to  adopt  the  caprices,  or 
to  yield  to  the  vehemence  of  the  common  people.  In  expecting 
this  advantage  from  an  order  of  nobles,  we  do  not  suppose  the  no- 
bility to  be  more  unprejudiced  than  others ;  we  only  suppose  that 
their  prejudices  will  be  different  from,  and  may  occasionally 
counteract,  those  of  others. 

If  the  personal  privileges  of  the  peerage,  which  are  usually  so 
many  injuries  to  the  rest  of  the  community,  be  restrained,  I  see 
little  inconveniency  in  the  increase  of  its  number;  for  it  is  only 
dividing  the  same  quantity  of  power  amongst  more  hands,  which 
is  rather  favourable  to  public  freedom,  than  otherwise. 

The  admission  of  a  small  number  of  ecclesiastics  into  the 
House  of  Lords,  is  but  an  equitable  compensation  to  the  clergy 
for  the  exclusion  of  their  order  from  the  House  of  Commons. 
They  are  a  set  of  men  considerable  by  their  number  and  property, 
as  well  as  by  their  influence,  and  the  duties  of  their  station;  yet, 
whilst  every  other  profession,  has  those  amongst  the  national 
representatives,  who,  being  conversant  in  the  same  occupation, 
are  able  to  state,  and  naturally  disposed  to  support,  the  rights 
and  interests  of  the  class  and  calling  to  which  they  belong,  the 
clergy  alone  are  deprived  of  this  advantage :  which  hardship  is 
made  up  to  them,  by  introducing  the  prelacy  into  parliament; 
and  if  bishops,  from  gratitude  or  expectation,  be  more  obsequious 
to  the  will  of  the  crown,  than  those  who  possess  great  temporal 
inheritances,  they  are  properly  inserted  into  that  part  of  the  con  = 
40 


3  £4  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

stitution,  from  which  much  or  frequent  resistance  to  the  measures 
of  government  is  not  expected. 

1  acknowledge,  that  I  perceive  no  sufficient  reason  for  exempt- 
ing the  persons  of  members  of  either  house  of  parliament  from 
arrest  for  debt.  The  counsels  or  suffrage  of  a  single  senator, 
especially  of  one,  who  in  the  management  of  his  own  affairs,  may 
justly  be  suspected  of  a  want  of  prudence  or  honesty,  can  seldom 
be  so  necessary  to  those  of  the  public,  as  to  justify  a  departure 
from  that  wholesome  policy,  by  which  the  laws  of  a  commercial 
state,  punish  and  stigmatize  insolvency.  But  whatever  reason 
may  be  pleaded  for  their  personal  immunity,  when  this  privilege 
of  parliament  is  extended  to  domestics  and  retainers,  or  when 
it  is  permitted  to  impede  or  delay  the  course  of  judicial  pro- 
ceedings, it  becomes  an  absurd  sacrifice  of  equal  justice  to  imagin- 
ary dignity. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  British  constitution  so  remarkable  as 
the  irregularity  of  the  popular  representation.  The  House  of 
Commons  consists  of  five  hundred  and  forty-eight  members,  oi 
whom  two  hundred  are  elected  by  seven  thousand  constituents ; 
so  that  a  majority  of  these  seven  thousand,  without  any  reasonable 
title  to  superiour  weight  or  influence  in  the  state,  may,  under 
certain  circumstances,  decide  a  question  against  the  opinion  of  as 
many  millions.  Or  to  place  the  same  object  in  another  point  of 
view  ;  if  my  estate  be  situated  in  one  county  of  the  kingdom,  I 
possess  the  ten  thousandth  part  of  a  single  representative ;  if  in 
another,  the  thousandth;  if  in  a  particular  district,  I  maybe  one 
in  twenty,  who  choose  two  representatives ;  if  in  a  still  more 
favoured  spot,  I  may  enjoy  the  right  of  appointing  two  myself. 
If  I  have  been  born,  or  dwell,  or  have  served  an  apprenticeship 
in  one  town,  I  am  represented  in  the  national  assembly  by  two 
deputies,  in  the  choice  of  whom  I  exercise  an  actual  and  sensible 
share  of  power;  if  accident  has  thrown  my  birth  or  habitation, 
or  service,  into  another  town,  I  have  no  representative  at  all, 
nor  more  power  or  concern  in  the  election  of  those  who  make  the 
laws  by  which  I  am  governed,  than  if  I  was  a  subject  of  the 
Grand  Seignior : — and  this  partiality  subsists  without  any  pre- 
tence whatever  of  merit  or  of  propriety,  to  justify  the  preference 
of  one  place  to  another.  Or,  thirdly,  to  describe  the  state  of  na- 
tional representation  as  it  exists,  in  reality,  it  may  be  affirmed,  I 
believe,  with  truth,  that  about  one  half  of  the  House  of  Commons, 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  315 

obtain  their  seats  in  that  assembly  by  the  election  of  the  people, 
the  other  half  by  purchase,  or  by  the  nomination  of  single  pro- 
prietors of  great  estates. 

This  is  a  flagrant  incongruity  in  the  constitution  ;  but  it  is  one 
of  those  objections,  which  strike  most  forcibly  at  first  sight.  The 
effect  of  all  reasoning  upon  the  subject  is  to  diminish  the  first  im- 
pression :  on  which  account  it  deserves  the  more  attentive  ex- 
amination, that  we  may  be  assured,  before  we  adventure  upon  a 
reformation,  that  the  magnitude  of  the  evil  justifies  the  danger 
of  the  experiment.  In  the  few  remarks  that  follow,  we  would  be 
understood,  in  the  first  place,  to  decline  all  conference  with  those 
who  wish  to  alter  the  form  of  government  of  these  kingdoms. 
The  reformers  With  whom  we  have  to  do,  are  they,  who,  whilst 
they  change  this  part  of  the  system,  would  retain  the  rest.  If 
any  Englishman  expect  more  happiness  to  his  country  under  a 
republic,  he  may  very  consistently  recommend  a  new  modelling  of 
elections  to  parliament ;  because,  if  the  King  and  House  of 
Lords  were  laid  aside,  the  present  disproportionate  representa- 
tion would  produce  nothing,  but  a  confused  and  ill-digested 
oligarchy.  In  like  manner  we  wave  a  controversy  with  those 
writers  who  insist  upon  representation  as  a  natural  right  :*  we 
consider  it  so  far  only  as  a  right  at  all,  as  it  conduces  to  public 
utility ;  that  is,  as  it  contributes  to  the  establishment  of  good  laws, 
or  as  it  secures  to  the  people  the  just  administration  of  these 
laws.  These  effects  depend  upon  the  disposition  and  abilities  of 
the  national  counsellors.  Wherefore,  if  men  the  most  likely  by 
their  qualifications  to  know  and  to  promote  the  public  interest, 
be  actually  returned  to  parliament,  it  signifies  little  who  return 
them.  If  the  properest  persons  be  elected,  what  matters  it  by 
whom  they  are  elected  ?  At  least,  no  prudent  statesman,  would 
subvert  long  established  or  even  settled  rules  of  representation, 
without  a  prospect  of  procuring  wiser  or  better  representatives. 
This  then  being  well  observed,  let  us,  before  we  seek  to  obtain 
any  thing  more,  consider  duly  what  we  already  have.     We  have 

*  If  this  right  be  natural,  no  doubt  it  must  be  equal ;  and  the  right,  we 
may  add,  of  one  sex,  as  well  as  of  the  other.  Whereas  every  plan  of  repre- 
sentation, that  we  have  heard  of,  begins  by  excluding  the  votes  of  women  ; 
thus  cutting  off,  at  a  single  stroke,  one  half  of  the  public  from  a  right  which 
is  asserted  to  be  inherent  in  all ;  a  right  too,  as  some  represent  it,  n«t  onlv 
umiversal,  but  unalienable,  and  indefeasible,  and  imprescriptible. 


g£6  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION, 

a  House  of  Commons  composed  of  five  hundred  and  forty-eigli 
members,  in  which  number  are  found  the  most  considerable  land- 
holders and  merchants  of  the  kingdom ;  the  heads  of  the  army, 
the  navy,  and  the  law ;  the  occupiers  of  great  offices  in  the  state  5 
together  with  many  private  individuals,  eminent  by  their  knowl- 
edge, eloquence,  or  activity.  Now,  if  the  country  be  not  safe  in 
such  hands,  in  whose  may  it  confide  its  interests  ?  If  such  a 
number  of  such  men,  be  liable  to  the  influence  of  corrupt  motives, 
what  assembly  of  men  will  be  secure  from  the  same  danger  ? 
Does  any  new  scheme  of  representation  promise  to  collect  together 
more  wisdom,  or  to  produce  firmer  integrity  ?  In  this  view  of 
the  subject,  and  attending  not  to  ideas  of  order  and  proportion 
(of  which  many  minds  are  much  enamoured,)  but  to  effects  alone, 
we  may  discover  just  excuses  for  those  parts  of  the  present  re- 
presentation, which  appear  to  a  hasty  observer  most  exception- 
able and  absurd.  It  should  be  remembered,  as  a  maxim  extremely 
applicable  to  this  subject,  that  no  order  or  assembly  of  men  what- 
ever can  long  maintain  their  place  and  authority  in  a  mixed  gov- 
ernment, of  which  the  members  do  not  individually  possess  a 
respectable  share  of  personal  importance.  Now  whatever  may 
he  the  defects  of  the  present  arrangement,  it  infallibly  secures  a 
great  weight  of  property  to  the  House  of  Commons,  by  rendering 
many  scats  in  that  house  accessible  to  men  of  large  fortunes,  and 
to  such  men  alone.  By  which  means  those  characters  are  en- 
gaged.in  the  defence  of  the  separate  rights,  and  interests  of  this 
branch  of  the  legislature,  that  are  best  able  to  support  its  claims. 
The  constitution  of  most  of  the  small  boroughs,  especially  the 
burgage  tenure,  contributes,  though  undesignedly,  to  the  same 
effect ;  for  the  appointment  of  the  representatives,  we  find  com- 
monly annexed  to  certain  great  inheritances.  Elections  purely 
popular,  are  in  this  respect  uncertain ;  in  times  of  tranquility, 
the  natural  ascendency  of  wealth  will  prevail  5  but  when  the 
minds  of  men  are  inflamed  by  political  dissensions,  this  influence 
often  yields  to  more  impetuous  motives. — The  variety  of  tenures 
and  qualifications,  upon  which  the  right  of  voting  is  founded, 
appears  to  me  a  recommendation  of  the  mode  which  now  subsists, 
as  it  tends  to  introduce  into  parliament  a  corresponding  mixture 
of  characters  and  professions.  It  has  been  long  observed  that 
conspicuous  abilities  are  most  frequently  found  with  the  represen- 
tatives of  small  boroughs.    And  this  is  nothing  more  than  what 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  3|^ 

the  laws  of  human  conduct  might  teach  us  to  expect :  when  such 
boroughs  are  set  to  sale,  those  men  are  likely  to  become  purchasers, 
who  are  enabled  by  their  talents  to  make  (he  best  of  their  bargain  : 
when  a  seat  is  not  sold,  but  given  by  the  opulent  proprietor  of  a 
burgage  tenure,  the  patron  finds  his  own  interest  consulted,  by 
the  reputation  and  abilities  of  the  member  whom  lie  nominates. 
If  certain  of  the  nobility  hold  the  appointment  of  some  part  o? 
the  House  of  Commons,  it  serves  to  maintain  that  alliance  be- 
tween the  two  branches  of  the  legislature,  which  no  good  citizen 
would  wish  to  see  dissevered  :  it  helps  to  keep  lift  government  of 
the  country  in  the  House  of  Commons,  in  which  it  would  not  per- 
haps long  continue  to  reside,  if  so  powerful  and  wealthy  a  part  of 
the  nation  as  the  peerage  compose,  were  excluded  from  all  share 
and  interest  in  its  constitution.  If  there  be  a  few  boroughs  so 
circumstanced  as  to  lie  at  the  disposal  of  the  crown,  whilst  the 
number  of  such  is  known  and  small,  they  may  be  tolerated  with 
little  danger.  For  where  would  be  the  impropriety,  or  the  in- 
couveuiency,  if  the  king  at  once  should  nominate  a  limited  num- 
ber of  servants  to  seats  in  parliament;  or,  what  is  the  same 
thing,  if  seats  iu  parliament  were  annexed  to  the  possession  of 
certain  of  the  most  efficient  and  responsible  offices  in  the  state? 
The  present  representation,  after  all  these  deductions,  and  under 
the  confusion  in  which  it  confessedly  lies,  is  still  in  such  a  degree 
popular,  or  rather  the  representatives  are  so  connected  with  the 
mass  of  the  community,  by  a  society  of  interests  and  passions 
that  the  will  of  the  people,  when  it  is  determined,  permanent,  and 
general,  almost  always  at  length  prevails. 

Upon  the  whole,  in  the  several  plans  which  have  been  sug- 
gested, of  an  equal  or  a  reformed  representation,  it  will  be  difficult 
to  discover  any  proposal  that  has  a  tendency  to  throw  more  of 
the  business  of  the  nation  into  the  House  of  Commons,  or  to  col- 
lect a  set  of  men  more  fit  to  transact  that  business,  or  in  general 
more  interested  in  the  national  happiness  and  prosperity.-  One 
consequence,  however,  may  be  expected  from  these  projects, 
namely,  "  less  flexibility  to  the  influence  of  the  crown."  And 
since  the  diminution  of  this  influence  is  the  declared  and  perhaps 
the  sole  design  of  the  various  schemes  that  have  been  produced, 
whether  for  regulating  the  elections,  contracting  the  duration,  or 
purifying  the  constitution  of  Parliament  by  the  exclusion  of  place- 
men and  pensioners:  it  is  obvious  to  remark,  that  the  more  apt 


3[8  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION. 

and  natural,  as  well  as  the  more  safe  and  quiet  way  of  attainiug 
the  same  end,  would  be,  by  a  direct  reduction  of  the  patronage  of 
the  crown,  which  might  be  effected  to  a  certain  extent  without 
hazarding  farther  consequences.  Superfluous  and  exorbitant 
emoluments  of  office  may  not  only  be  suppressed  for  the  present; 
but  provisions  of  law  be  devised,  which  should  for  the  future  re- 
strain within  certain  limits  the  number  and  value  of  the  offices  in 
the  donation  of  the  king. 

But  whilst  we  dispute  concerning  different  schemes  of  reforma- 
tion, all  directed  to  the  same  end,  a  previous  doubt  occurs  in  the 
debate,  whether  the  end  itself  be  good,  or  safe; — whether  the 
influence  so  loudly  complained  of  can  be  destroyed,  or  even  much 
diminished,  without  danger  to  the  state.  Whilst  the  zeal  of 
some  men  beholds  this  influence  with  a  jealousy,  which  nothing 
but  its  entire  abolition  can  appease,  many  wise  and  virtuous  poli-. 
ticians  deem  a  considerable  portion  of  it  to  be  as  necessary  apart 
of  the  British  constitution,  as  any  other  ingredient  in  the  compo- 
sition;— to  be  that,  indeed,  which  gives  cohesion  and  solidity  to 
the  whole.  Were  the  measures  of  government,  say  they,  opposed 
from  nothing  but  principle,  government  ought  to  have  nothing 
but  the  rectitude  of  its  measures  to  support  them  ;  but  since  oppo- 
sition springs  from  other  motives,  government  must  possess  an 
influence  to  counteract  these  motives ;  to  produce,  not  a  bias  of 
the  passions,  but  a  neutrality ; — it  must  have  some  weight  to  cast 
into  the  scale,  to  set  the  balance  even.  It  is  the  nature  of  power, 
always  to  press  upon  the  boundaries  which  confine  it.  Licen- 
tiousness, faction,  envy,  impatience  of  controul  or  inferiority ; 
the  secret  pleasure  of  mortifying  the  great,  or  the  hope  of  dispos- 
sessing them ;  a  constant  willingness  to  question  and  thwart  what- 
ever is  dictated  or  even  proposed  by  another  ;  a  disposition  com- 
mon to  all  bodies  of  men,  to  extend  the  claims  and  authority  of 
their  orders  ;  above  all,  that  love  of  power,  and  of  showing  it, 
which  resides  more  or  less  in  every  human  breast,  and  which,  in 
popular  assemblies,  is  inflamed,  like  every  other  passion,  by 
communication  and  encouragement :  these  motives,  added  to  pri- 
vate designs  and  resentments,  cherished  also  by  popular  acclama- 
tion, and  operating  upon  the  great  share  of  power  already  pos- 
sessed by  the  House  of  Commons,  might  induce  a  majority,  or  at 
least  a  large  party  of  men  in  that  assembly,  to  unite  in  endeavour- 
ing to  draw  to  themselves  the  whole  government  «f  the  state  5  or. 


BRITISH  CONSTITUTION.  319 

at  least,  so  to  obstruct  the  conduct  of  public  affairs,  by  a  wanton 
and  perverse  opposition,  as  to  render  it  impossible  for  the  wisest 
statesmen  to  carry  forwards  the  business  of  the  nation  with  success 
or  satisfaction. 

Some  passages  of  our  national  history  afford  grounds  for  these 
apprehensions.  Before  the  accession  of  James  the  First,  or,  at 
least,  during  the  reigns  of  his  three  immediate  predecessors,  the 
government  of  England  was  a  government  by  force  ;  that  is,  the 
king  carried  his  measures  in  parliament  by  intimidation.  A 
sense  of  personal  danger  kept  the  members  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  subjection.  A  conjunction  of  fortunate  causes  delivered 
at  last  the  parliament  and  nation  from  slavery.  That  Overbear- 
ing system,  which  had  declined  in  the  hands  of  James,  expired 
early  in  the  reign  of  his  son.  After  the  restoration  there  suc- 
ceeded in  its  place,  and  since  the  revolution  has  been  methodically 
pursued,  the  more  successful  expedient  of  influence.  Now  we  re- 
member what  passed  between  the  loss  of  terrour,  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  influence.  The  transactions  of  that  interval,  what- 
ever we  may  think  of  their  occasion  or  effect,  no  friend  of  regal 
government  would  wish  to  see  revived. — But  the  affairs  of  this 
kingdom  afford  a  more  recent  attestation  to  the  same  doctrine. 
In  the  British  colonies  of  North-America,  the  late  assemblies 
possessed  much  of  the  power  and  constitution  of  our  House  of 
Commons.  The  king  and  government  of  Great  Britain  held  no 
patronage  in  the  country,  which  could  create  attachment  and  in- 
fluence sufficient  to  counteract  that  restless,  arrogating  spirit^ 
which  in  popular  assemblies,  when  left  to  itself,  will  never  brook 
an  authority  that  checks  and  interferes  with  its  own.  To  this 
cause,  excited  perhaps  by  some  unseasonable  provocations,  we 
may  attribute,  as  to  their  true  and  proper  original,  we  will  not 
say  the  misfortunes,  but  the  changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the 
British  empire.  The  admonition,  which  such  examples  suggest. 
will  have  its  weight  with  those,  who  are  content  with  the  general 
frame  of  the  English  constitution;  and  who  consider  stability 
amongst  the  first  perfections  of  any  government. 

We  protest,  however,  against  any  construction,  by  which  what 
is  here  said  shall  be  attempted  to  be  applied  to  the  justification  of 
bribery,  or  of  any  clandestine  reward  or  solicitation  whatever. 
The  very  secrecy  of  such  negociations  confesses  or  begets  a  con- 
sciousness of  guilt ;  which  when  the  mind  is  once  taught  to  endure 


320  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION, 

without  uneasiness,  the  character  is  prepared  for  every  coinpli 
auce  :  and  there  is  the  greater  danger  in  these  corrupt  practices, 
as  the  extent  of  their  operation  is  unlimited  and  unknown.  Our 
apology  relates  solely  to  that  influence,  which  results  from  the 
acceptance  or  expectation  of  public  preferments.  Nor  does  the 
influence,  which  we  defend,  require  any  sacrifice  of  personal 
probity.  In  political,  above  all  other  subjects,  the  arguments,  or 
rather  the  conjectures,  on  each  side  of  the  question,  are  often  so 
equally  poised,  that  the  wisest  judgments  may  be  held  in  sus- 
pense :  these  I  call  subjects  of  indifference.  But  again,  when  the 
subject  is  not  indifferent  in  itself,  it  will  appear  such  to  a  great 
part  of  those  to  whom  it  is  proposed,  for  want  of  information,  or 
reflection,  or  experience,  or  of  capacity  to  collect  and  weigh  the 
reasons  by  which  either  side  is  supported.  These  are  subjects  of 
apparent  indifference.  This  indifference  occurs  still  more  fre- 
quently in  personal  contests ;  in  which  we  do  not  often  discover 
any  reasons  of  public  utility  for  the  preference  of  one  competitor 
to  another.  These  cases  compose  the  province  of  influence ;  that 
is,  the  decision  in  these  cases  will  inevitably  be  determined  by 
influence  of  some  sort  or  other.  The  only  doubt  is,  what  influence 
shall  be  admitted.  If  you  remove  the  influence  of  the  crown,  it 
is  only  to  make  way  for  influence  from  a  different  quarter.  If 
motives  of  expectation  and  gratitude  be  withdrawn,  other  motives 
will  succeed  in  their  place,  acting  probably  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion, but  equally  irrelative  and  external  to  the  proper  merits  of 
the  question.  There  exist,  as  we  have  seen,  passions  in  the  human 
heart,  which  will  always  make  a  strong  party  against  the  execu- 
tive power  of  a  mixed  government.  x\ccording  as  the  disposition 
of  parliament  is  friendly  or  adverse  to  the  recommendation  of  the 
crown  in  matters  which  are  really  or  apparently  indifferent,  as 
indifference  hath  been  now  explained,  the  business  of  the  empire 
will  be  transacted  with  ease  and  convenience,  or  embarrassed 
with  endless  contention  and  difficulty.  Nor  is  it  a  conclusion 
founded  in  justice,  or  warranted  by  experience,  that,  because  men 
are  induced  by  views  of  interest  to  yield  their  consent  to  meas- 
ures, concerning  which  their  judgment  decides  nothing,  they  may 
be  brought  by  the  same  influence  to  act  in  deliberate  opposition  to 
knowledge  and  duty.  Whoever  reviews  the  operations  of  gov- 
ernment in  this  country  since  the  revolution,  will  find  few  even  of 
the  most  questionable  measures  of  administration,  about  which 


ADMINISTRATION  OP  JUSTICE.  3g£ 

the  best  instructed  judgment  might  not  have  doubted  at  the  time ; 
but  of  which  he  may  affirm  with  certainty,  they  were  indifferent 
to  the  greatest  part  of  those  who  concurred  in  them.  From  the 
success,  or  the  facility,  with  which  they  who  dealt  out  the  pat- 
ronage of  the  erown  carried  measures  like  these,  ought  we  to  con- 
clude, that  a  similar  application  of  honours  and  emoluments 
would  procure  the  consent  of  parliament  to  counsels  evidently 
detrimental  to  the  common  welfare  ?  Is  there  not,  on  the  contrary, 
more  reason  to  fear,  that  the  prerogative,  if  deprived  of  influence, 
would  not  be  long  able  to  support  itself?  For  when  we  reflect 
upon  the  power  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  extort  a  compliance 
with  its  resolutions  from  the  other  parts  of  the  legislature ;  or  to 
put  to  death  the  constitution  by  a  refusal  of  the  annual  grants  of 
money  to  the  support  of  the  necessary  functions  of  government ; — 
when  we  reflect  also  what  motives  there  are,  which,  in  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  political  interests  and  passions,  may  one  day  arm  and 
point  this  power  against  the  executive  magistrate ; — when  we 
attend  to  these  considerations,  we  shall  be  led  perhaps  to  acknowl- 
edge, that  there  is  not  more  of  paradox  than  of  truth  in  that  im- 
portant,  but  much  decried  apophthegm,  "  That  an  independent 
parliament  is  incompatible  with  the  existence  of  the  monarchy." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OP  THE  ADMINISTRATION  OF  JUSTICE. 

THE  first  maxim  of  a  free  state  is,  that  the  laws  be  made  by 
one  set  of  men,  and  anhainistered  by  another:  in  other  words, 
that  the  legislative  and  judicial  characters  be  kept  separate. 
When  these  offices  are  united  in  the  same  person  or  assembly, 
particular  laws  are  made  for  particular  cases,  springing  often- 
times from  partial  motives,  and  directed  to  private  ends  :  whilst 
they  are  kept  separate,  general  laws  are  made  by  one  body  of 
men,  without  foreseeing  whom  they  may  affect  j  and,  when  made, 
must  be  applied  by  the  other,  let  them  affect  whom  they  will. 
"     41 


3^2  0P  THE  ADMINISTRATION 

For  the  sake  of  illustration,  let  it  be  supposed,  in  this  country, 
either  that,  parliaments  being  laid  aside,  the  eourts  of  Westmin- 
ster Hall  made  their  own  laws;  or  that  the  two  houses  of  parlia- 
ment, with  the  king  at  their  head,  tried  and  decided  causes  at 
their  bar  :  it  is  evident,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  decisions  of 
such  a  judicature  would  be  so  many  laws ;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  that,  when  the  parties  and  the  interests  to  be  affected  by 
the  law  were  known,  the  inclinations  of  the  law-makers  would 
inevitably  attach  on  one  side  or  the  other;  and  that, where  there 
were  neither  any  fixed  rules  to  regulate  their  determinations,  nor 
any  superiour  power  to  control  their  proceedings,  these  inclina- 
tions would  interfere  with  the  integrity  of  public  justice.  The 
consequence  of  which  must  be,  that  the  subjects  of  such  a  consti- 
tution would  live  either  without  any  constant  laws,  that  is,  with- 
out any  known,  pre-established  rules  of  adjudication  whatever; 
or  under  laws  made  for  particular  cases  and  particular  persons, 
and  partaking  of  the  contradictions  and  iniquity  of  the  motives 
to  which  they  owed  their  origin. 

Which  dangers,  by  the  division  of  the  legislative  and  judicial 
functions,  are  in  this  country  effectually  provided  against.  Par- 
liament knows  not  the  individuals  upon  whom  its  acts  will  operate ; 
it  has  no  cases  or  parties  before  it ;  no  private  designs  to  serve  : 
consequently  its  resolutions  will  be  suggested  by  the  consideration 
of  universal  effects  and  tendencies,  which  always  produces  im- 
partial, and  commonly  advantageous  regulations.  When  laws 
are  made,  courts  of  justice,  whatever  be  the  disposition  of  the 
judges,  must  abide  by  them ;  for  the  legislative  being  necessarily 
the  supreme  power  of  the  state,  the  judicial  and  every  other 
power  is  accountable  to  that;  and  it  cannot  be  doubted  but  that  the 
persons,  who  possess  the  sovereign  authority  of  government,  will 
be  tenacious  of  the  laws  which  they  themselves  prescribe,  and 
sufficiently  jealous  of  the  assumption  of  dispensing  and  legislative 
power  by  any  others. 

This  fundamental  rule  of  civil  jurisprudence  is  violated  in  the 
case  of  acts  of  attainder  or  confiscation,  in  bills  of  pains  and  pen- 
alties, and  in  all  ex  post  facto  laws  whatever,  in  which  parlia- 
ment exercises  the  double  office  of  legislature  and  judge.  And 
whoever  either  understands  the  value  of  4.he  rule  itself,  or  collects 
the  history  of  those  instances  in  which  it  has  been  invaded,  will 
he  induced,  I  believe^  to  acknowledge,  that  it  had  been  wiser  and 


of  justice.  333 

safer  never  to  have  departed  from  it.  He  will  confess,  at  least, 
that  nothing  but  the  most  manifest  and  immediate  peril  of  the 
commonwealth  will  justify  a  repetition  of  these  dangerous  exam- 
ples. If  the  laws  in  being  do  not  punish  an  offender,  let  him  go 
unpunished;  let  the  legislature,  admonished  of  the  defect  of  the 
laws,  provide  against  the  commission  of  future  crimes  of  the  same 
sort  The  escape  of  one  delinquent  can  never  produce  so  much 
harm  to  the  community  as  may  arise  from  the  infraction  of  a  rule, 
upon  which  the  purity  of  public  justice,  and  the  existence  of  civil 
liberty,  essentially  depend. 

The  next  security  for  the  impartial  administration  of  justice, 
especially  in  decisions  to  which  government  is  a  party,  is  the  in- 
dependency of  the  judges.  As  protection  against  every  illegal  at- 
tack upon  the  rights  of  the  subject  by  the  servants  of  the  crown 
is  to  be  sought  for  from  these  tribunals,  the  judges  of  the  land 
become  not  unfrequently  the  arbitrators  between  the  king  and  the 
people  :  on  which  account  they  ought  to  be  independent  of  either : 
or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  equally  dependent  upon  both  ;  that  is, 
if  they  be  appointed  by  the  one,  they  should  be  removable  only 
by  the  other.  This  was  the  policy  which  dictated  that  memora- 
ble improvement  in  our  constitution,  by  which  the  judges,  who 
before  the  revolution  held  their  offices  during  the  pleasure  of  the 
king,  can  now  only  be  deprived  of  them  by  an  address  from  both 
houses  of  parliament ;  as  the  most  regular,  solemn,  and  authentic 
way,  by  which  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  people  can  be  expressed. 
To  make  this  independency  of  the  judges  complete,  the  public 
salaries  of  their  office  ought  not  only  to  be  certain  both  in  amount 
and  continuance,  but  so  liberal  as  to  secure  their  integrity  from 
the  temptation  of  secret  bribes  :  which  liberality  will  answer  also 
the  farther  purpose  of  preserving  their  jurisdiction  from  contempt, 
and  their  characters  from  suspicion ;  as  well  as  of  rendering  the 
office  worthy  of  the  ambition  of  men  of  eminence  in  their  pro- 
fession. 

A  third  precaution  to  be  observed  in  the  formation  of  courts  of 
justice  is,  that  the  number  of  the  judges  be  small.  For,  beside 
that  the  violence  and  tumult  inseparable  from  large  assemblies 
are  inconsistent  with  the  patience,  method,  and  attention  requisite 
in  judicial  investigations  ;  beside  that  all  passions  and  prejudices 
act  with  augmented  force  upon  a  collected  multitude :  beside 
these  objections;  judges;  when  they  are  numerous  divide  the  shame 


33$  0F  THE  ADMINISTRATION 

of  an  unjust  determination  ;  they  shelter  themselves  under  oae 
another's  example ;  each  man  thinks  his  own  character  hid  in 
the  crowd :  for  which  reason  the  judges  ought  always  to  be  so 
few,  as  that  the  conduct  of  each  may    he  conspicuous  to  public 
observation ;  that  each  may  be  responsible  in  his  separate  and 
particular  reputation  for  the  decisions  in  which  he  concurs.    The 
truth  of  the  above  remark  has  been  exemplified  in  this  country, 
in  the  effects  of  that  wise  regulation  which  transferred  the  trial 
of  parliamentary  elections  from  the  House  of  Commons  at  large 
to  a  select  committee  of  that  house,  composed  of  thirteen  mem- 
bers.    This  alteration,   simply  by   reducing  the  number  of  the 
judges,  and,  in  consequence  of  that  reduction,  exposing  the  judi- 
cial conduct  of  each  to  public  animadversion,  has  given  to  a 
judicature,  which  had  been  long  swayed  by  interest  and  solicita- 
tion, the  solemnity  and  virtue  of  the  most  upright  tribunals.     I 
should  prefer  an  even  to  an  odd  number  of  judges,  and  four  to 
almost  any  other  number :  for  in  this  number,  beside  that  it  suffi- 
ciently consults  the  idea  of  separate  responsibility,  nothing  can 
he  decided  but  by  a  majority  of  three  to  one :  and  when  we  con- 
sider that  every  decision  establishes  a  perpetual  precedent,  we 
shall  allow  that  it  ought  to  proceed  from  an  authority  not  less 
than  this.    If  the  court  be  equally  divided,   nothing  is   done ; 
things  remain  as  they  were  ;  with  some  inconveniency,  indeed,  to 
the  parties,  but  without  the  danger  to  the  public  of  a  hasty  pre- 
cedent. 

A  fourth  requisite  in  the  constitution  of  a  court  of  justice,  and 
equivalent  to  many  cheeks  upon  the  discretion  of  judges,  is,  that 
its  proceedings  be  carried  on  in  public,  apertis  foribus  ;  not  only 
before  a  promiscuous  concourse  of  bystanders,  but  in  the  audience 
of  the  whole  profession  of  the  law.  The  opinion  of  the  Bar, 
concerning  what  passes  will  be  impartial ;  and  will  commonly 
guide  that  of  the  public.  The  most  corrupt  judge  will  fear  to 
indulge  his  dishonest  wishes,  in  the  presence  of  such  an  assembly : 
he  must  encounter,  what  few  can  support,  the  censure  of  his  equals 
and  companions,  together  with  the  indignation  and  reproaches  of 
his  country. 

Something  is  also  gained  to  the  public  by  appointing  two  or 
three  courts  of  concurrent  jurisdiction,  that  it  may  remain  in  the 
option  of  the  suitor  to  which  he  will  resort.  By  this  means  a  tri- 
bunal which  may  happen  to  be  occupied  by  ignorant  or  suspected 


OF  JUSTICE.  3^5 

judges,  will  be  deserted  for  others  that  possess  more  of  the  confi- 
dence of  the  nation. 

But,  lastly,  if  several  courts,  co-ordinate  to  and  independent  of 
each  other,  subsist  together  in  the  country,  it  seems  necessary 
that  the  appeals  from  all  of  them  should  meet  and  terminate  in 
the  same  judicature ;  in  order  that  one  supreme  tribunal,  by 
whose  final  sentence  all  others  are  bound  and  concluded,  may 
superintend  and  preside  over  the  rest.  This  constitution  is  ne- 
cessary for  two  purposes  :  to  preserve  an  uniformity  in  the  de- 
cisions of  inferiour  courts,  and  to  maintain  to  each  the  proper 
limits  of  its  jurisdiction.  Without  a  common  superiour,  different 
courts  might  establish  contradictory  rules  of  adjudication,  and 
the  contradiction  be  final  and  without  remedy  ;  the  same  ques- 
tion might  receive  opposite  determinations,  according  as  it  was 
brought  before  one  court  or  another,  and  the  determination  in 
each  be  ultimate  aud  irreversible.  A  common  appellant  juris- 
diction prevents,  or  puts  an  end  to  this  confusion.  For  when  the 
judgments  upon  appeals  are  consistent,  which  may  be  expected, 
whilst  it  is  the  same  court  which  is  at  last  resorted  to,  the  differ- 
ent courts,  from  which  the  appeals  are  brought,  will  be  reduced 
to  a  like  consistency  with  one  another.  Moreover,  if  questions 
arise  between  courts,  independent  of  each  other,  concerning  the 
extent  aud  boundaries  of  their  respective  jurisdiction,  as  each 
will  be  desirous  of  enlarging  its  own,  an  authority  which  both 
acknowledge  can  alone  adjust  the  controversy.  Such  a  power, 
therefore,  must  reside  somewhere,  lest  the  rights  and  repose  of 
the  country,  be  distracted  by  the  endless  opposition  and  mutual 
encroachments  of  its  courts  of  justice. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  judicature ;  the  one  where  the  office 
of  the  judge  is  permanent  in  the  same  person,  and  consequently 
where  the  judge  is  appointed  and  known  long  before  the  trial ;  the 
other,  where  the  judge  is  determined  by  lot  at  the  lime  of  the 
trial,  and  for  that  turn  only.  The  one  may  be  called  a.  fixed,  the 
other  a  casual  judicature.  From  the  former  may  be  expected 
those  qualifications  which  are  preferred  and  sought  for  in  the 
choice  of  judges,  and  that  knowledge  and  readiness  which  result 
from  experience  in  the  office.  But  then,  as  the  judge  is  known 
beforehand,  he  is  accessible  to  the  parties ;  there  exists  a  possi- 
bility of  secret  management  and  undue  practices :  or,  in  contests 
between   the  crown  and  the  subject,  the  judge  appointed  by  the 


226  '        0F  THE  ADMINISTRATION 

crown,  may  be  suspected  of  partiality  to  his  patron,  or  of  enter- 
taining inclinations  favourable  to  the  authority  from  which  he 
derives  his  own.  The  advantage  attending  the  second  kind  of 
judicature  is  indifferency  ;  the  defect,  the  want  of  that  legal 
science  which  produces  uniformity  and  justice  in  legal  decisions. 
The  construction  of  English  courts  of  law,  in  which  causes  are 
tried  by  a  jury,  with  the  assistance  of  a  judge,  combines  the  two 
species  together  with  peculiar  success.  This  admirable  contriv- 
ance unites  the  wisdom  of  a  fixed  with  the  integrity  of  a  casual 
judicature ;  and  avoids  in  a  great  measure,  the  inconveniences  of 
both.  The  judge  imparts  to  the  jury  the  benefit  of  his  erudition 
and  experience;  the  jury,  by  their  disinterestedness,  check  any 
corrupt  partialities,  which  previous  application  may  have  pro- 
duced in  the  judge.  If  the  determination  was  left  to  the  judge, 
the  party  might  suffer  under  the  superiour  interest  of  his  adver- 
sary :  if  it  was  left  to  an  uninstructed  jury,  his  rights  would  be 
in  still  greater  danger  from  the  ignorance  of  those  who  were  to 
decide  upon  them.  The  present  wise  admixture  of  chance  and 
choice  in  the  constitution  of  the  court  in  which  his  cause  is  tried, 
guards  him  equally  against  the  fear  of  injury  from  either  of  these 
causes. 

In  proportion  to  the  acknowledged  excellency  of  this  mode  of 
trial,  every  deviation  from  it  ought  to  be  watched  with  vigilance, 
and  admitted  by  the  legislature  with  caution  and  reluctance. 
Summary  convictions  before  justices  of  the  peace,  especially 
for  offences  against  the  game  laws  ;  courts  of  conscience ;  ex- 
tending the  jurisdiction  of  courts  of  equity ;  urging  too  far  the 
dictinction  between  questions  of  law  and  matters  of  fact, — are  all 
so  many  infringements  upon  this  great  charter  of  public  safety. 

Nevertheless,  the  trial  by  jury  is  sometimes  found  inadequate 
to  the  administration  of  equal  justice.  This  imperfection  takes 
place  chiefly  in  disputes  in  which  some  popular  passion  or  pre- 
judice intervenes ;  as  where  a  particular  order  of  men  advance 
claims  upon  the  rest  of  the  community,  which  is  the  case  of  the 
clergy  contending  for  tythes ;  or  where  an  order  of  men  are  ob- 
noxious by  their  profession,  as  are  offices  of  the  revenue,  bailiffs, 
bailiff's  followers,  and  other  low  ministers  of  the  law  ;  or  where 
one  of  the  parties  has  an  interest  in  common  with  the  general 
interest  of  the  jurors,  and  that  of  the  other  is  opposed  to  it,  as  in 
contests  between  landlords  and  tenants,,  between  lords  of  manors 


OF  JUSTICE,  327 

and  the  holders  of  estates  under  them ;  or,  lastly,  where  the 
minds  of  men  are  inflamed  by  political  dissensions  or  religious 
hatred.  These  prejudices  act  most  powerfully  upon  the  common 
people,  of  which  order  juries  are  made  up.  The  force  and 
danger  of  them  are  also  increased  by  the  very  circumstance  of 
taking  jurors  out  of  the  county  in  which  the  subject  of  dispute 
arises.  In  the  neighbourhood  of  the  parties  the  cause  is  often 
prejudged  :  and  these  secret  decisions  of  the  mind  proceed  com- 
monly more  upon  sentiments  of  favour  or  hatred ; — upon  some 
opinion  concerning  the  sect,  family,  profession,  character,  con- 
nexions, or  circumstances  of  the  parties, — than  upon  any  knowl- 
edge or  discussion  of  the  proper  merits  of  the  question.  More 
exact  justice  would,  in  many  instances,  be  rendered  to  the  suitors, 
if  the  determination  were  left  entirely  to  the  judges ;  provided 
we  could  depend  upon  the  same  purity  of  conduct,  when  the 
power  of  these  magistrates  was  enlarged,  which  they  have  long 
manifested  in  the  exercise  of  a  mixed  and  restrained  authority. 
But  this  is  an  experiment  too  big  with  public  danger  to  be  haz- 
arded. The  effects,  however,  of  some  local  prejudices,  might  be 
safely  obviated  by  a  law  empowering  the  court,  in  whieh  the 
action  is  brought,  to  send  the  cause  to  trial  in  a  distant  county  : 
the  expenses  attending  the  change  of  place,  always  falling  upon 
the  party  who  applied  for  it. 

There  is  a  second  division  of  courts  of  justice,  which  presents 
a  new  alternative  of  difficulties.  Either  one,  two,  or  a  few  sover- 
eign courts,  may  be  erected  in  the  metropolis,  for  the  whole  king- 
dom to  resort  to ;  or  courts  of  local  jurisdiction  may  be  fixed  in 
various  provinces  and  districts  of  the  empire.  Great,  though 
opposite,  inconveniences  attend  each  arrangement.  If  the  court 
be  remote  and  solemn,  it  becomes,  by  these  very  qualities,  ex- 
pensive and  dilatory :  the  expense  is  unavoidably  increased  when 
witnesses,  parties,  and  agents,  must  be  brought  to  attend  from 
distant  parts  of  the  country :  and,  where  the  whole  judicial 
business  of  a  large  nation  is  collected  into  a  few  superiour  tribu- 
nals, it  will  be  found  impossible,  even  if  the  prolixity  of  forms 
which  retards  the  progress  of  causes  were  removed,  to  give  a 
prompt  hearing  to  every  complaint,  or  an  immediate  answer  to 
any.  On  the  other  hand,  if,  to  remedy  these  evils,  and  to  render 
the  administration  of  justice  cheap  and  speedy,  domestic  and 
summary  tribunals  be  erected  in  each  neighbourhood,  the  advan- 


3^3  0F  THE  ADMINISTRATION 

tage  of  such  courts  will  be  accompanied  with  all  the  dangers  of 
ignorance  and  partiality,  and  with  the  certain  mischief  of  con- 
fusion and  contrariety  in  their  decisions.  The  law  of  England, 
by  its  circuit,  or  itinerary  courts,  contains  a  provision  for  the  dis- 
tribution of  private  justice,  in  a  great  measure  relieved  from  both 
these  objections.  As  the  presiding  magistrate  comes  into  the 
country  a  stranger  to  its  prejudices,  rivalships,  and  connexions, 
he  brings  with  him  none  of  those  attachments  and  regards,  which 
are  so  apt  to  pervert  the  course  of  justice,  when  the  parties  and 
the  judges  inhabit  the  same  neighbourhood.  Again,  as  this  mag- 
istrate is  usually  one  of  the  judges  of  the  supreme  tribunals  of 
the  kingdom,  and  has  passed  his  life  in  the  study  and  adminis- 
tration of  the  laws,  he  possesses,  it  may  be  presumed,  those  pro- 
fessional qualifications,  which  befit  the  dignity  and  importance  of 
Lis  station.  Lastly,  as  both  he  and  the  advocates  who  accompany 
him  in  his  circuit,  are  employed  in  the  business  of  those  supe- 
riour  courts  (to  which  also  their  proceedings  are  amenable,)  they 
will  naturally  conduct  themselves  by  the  rules  of  adjudication, 
which  they  have  applied  or  learned  there ;  and  by  this  means 
maintain,  what  constitutes  a  principal  perfection  of  civil  gov- 
ernment, one  law  of  the  land  in  every  part  and  district  of  the 
empire. 

Next  to  the  constitution  of  courts  of  justice,  we  are  naturally 
led  to  consider  the  maxims  which  ought  to  guide  their  proceed- 
ings :  and,  upon  this  subject,  the  chief  inquiry  will  be,  how  far, 
and  for  what  reasons,  it  is  expedient  to  adhere  to  former  deter- 
minations ;  or  whether  it  be  necessary  forjudges  to  attend  to  any 
other  consideration,  than  the  apparent  and  particular  equity  of 
the  case  before  them.  Now  although  to  assert,  that  precedents 
established  by  one  set  of  judges  ought  to  be  incontrovertible  by 
their  successors  in  the  same  jurisdiction,  or  by  those  who  exercise 
a  higher,  would  be  to  attribute  to  the  sentence  of  those  judges  all 
the  authority  we  ascribe  to  the  most  solemn  acts  of  the  legisla- 
ture ;  yet  the  general  security  of  private  rights,  and  of  civil  life, 
requires,  that  such  precedents,  especially  if  they  have  been  con- 
firmed by  repeated  adjudications,  should  not  be  overthrown, 
without  a  detection  of  manifest  errour,  or  without  some  impu- 
tation of  dishonesty  upon  the'  court  by  whose  judgment  the  ques- 
tion was  first  decided.  And  this  deference  to  prior  decisions  is 
founded  upon  two  reasons;  first,  that  the  discretion  of  judges 


OF  JUSTICE.  3gg 

may  be  bound  down  by  positive  rules ;  and,  secondly,  that  the 
subject  upon  every  occasion  iu  which  his  legal  interest  is  concern- 
ed, may  know  beforehand  how  to  act,  and  what  to  expect.  To 
set  judges  free  from  any  obligation  to  conform  themselves  to  the 
decisions  of  their  predecessors,  would  be  to  lay  open  a  latitude 
of  judging,  with  which  no  description  of  men  can  safely  be  in- 
trusted :  it  would  be  to  allow  space  for  the  exercise  of  those  con- 
cealed partialities,  which,  since  they  cannot  by  any  human  policy 
be  excluded,  ought  to  be  confined  by  boundaries  and  landmarks. 
It  is  in  vain  to  allege,  that  the  superintendency  of  parliament  is 
always  at  hand  to  control  and  punish  abuses  of  judicial  discretion. 
By  what  rules  can  parliament  proceed  ?  How  shall  they  pro- 
nounce a  decision  to  be  wrong,  where  there  exists  no  acknowledg- 
ed measure  or  standard  of  what  is  right ;  which,  in  a  multitude  of 
instances,  would  be  the  case,  if  prior  determinations  were  no 
longer  to  be  appealed  to  ? 

Diminishing  the  danger  of  partiality,  is  one  thing  gained  by 
adhering  to  precedents ;  but  not  the  principal  thing.  The  subject 
of  every  system  of  laws  must  expect  that  decision  in  his  own  case, 
which  he  knows  that  others  have  received  in  cases  similar  to 
his.  If  he  expect  not  this,  he  can  expect  nothing.  There  exists  no 
other  rule  or  principle  of  reasoning,  by  which  he  ean  foretel,or  even 
conjecture,  the  event  of  a  judicial  contest.  To  remove  therefore  the 
grounds  of  this  expectation,  by  rejecting  the  force  and  authority 
of  precedents,  is  to  entail  upon  the  subject  the  worst  property  of 
slavery, — to  have  no  assurance  of  his  rights  or  knowledge  of 
his  duty.  The  quiet  also  of  the  country,  as  well  as  the  confi- 
dence and  satisfaction  of  each  man's  mind,  requires  uniformity 
in  judicial  proceedings.  Nothing  quells  a  spirit  of  litigation  like 
despair  of  success  :  therefore  nothing  so  completely  puts  an  end 
to  law-suits  as  a  rigid  adherence  to  known  rules  of  adjudication. 
Whilst  the  event  is  uncertain,  which  it  ever  must  be,  whilst  it  is 
uncertain  whether  former  determinations  upon  the  same  subject 
will  be  followed  or  not,  law-suits  will  be  endless  and  innumera- 
ble :  men  will  commonly  engage  in  them,  either  from  the  hope  of 
•prevailing  in  their  claims,  which  the  smallest  chance  is  sufficient 
to  encourage;  or  with  the  design  of  intimidating  their  adversary 
by  the  terrors  of  a  dubious  litigation.  When  justice  is  rendered 
to  the  parties,  only  half  the  business  of  a  court  of  justice  is  done: 
the  more  important  part  of  its  office  remains  j — to  put  an  end? 
43 


330  0F  Tim  ADMINISTRATION 

for  the  future,  to  every  fear,  and  quarrel,  and  expense,  upon  tfjc 
same  point ;  and  so  to  regulate  its  proceedings,  that  not  only  a 
doubt  once  decided  may  be  stirred  no  more,  but  that  the  whole 
train  of  law-suits,  which  issue  from  one  uncertainty,  may  die  with 
the  parent  question.  Now  this  advantage  can  only  be  attained 
by  considering  each  decision  as  a  direction  to  succeeding  judges. 
And  it  should  be  observed,  that  every  departure  from  former  de- 
terminations, especially  if  they  have  been  often  repeated  or  long 
submitted  to,  shakes  the  stability  of  all  legal  title.  It  is  not  fix- 
ing a  point  auew;  it  is  leaving  every  thing  unfixed.  For  by  the 
same  stretch  of  power  by  which  the  present  race  of  judges  take 
upon  them  to  contradict  the  judgment  of  their  predecessors,  those 
who  try  the  question  next  may  set^aside  theirs. 

From  an  adherence  however  to  precedents,  by  which  so  much 
is  gained  to  the  public,  two  consequences  arise  which  are  often 
lamented  ;  the  hardship  of  particular  determinations,  and  the 
intricacy  of  the  law  as  a  science.  To  the  first  of  these  com- 
plaints, we  must  apply  this  reflection  ; — "  That  uuiformity  is  of 
more  importance  than  equity,  in  proportion  as  a  general  uncer- 
tainty would  be  a  greater  evil  than  particular  injustice."  The 
second  is  attended  with  no  greater  inconveniency,  than  that  of 
erecting  the  practice  of  the  law  into  a  separate  profession  :  which 
this  reason,  we  allow,  makes  necessary ;  for  if  we  attribute  so 
much  authority  to  precedents,  it  is  expedient  that  they  be  known, 
in  every  cause,  both  to  the  advocates  and  to  the  judge  :  this 
knowledge  cannot  be  general,  since  it  is  the  fruit  oftentimes  of 
laborious  research,  or  demands  a  memory  stored  with  long-collect- 
ed erudition. 


To  a  mind  revolving  upon  the  subject  of  human  jurisprudence, 
there  frequently  occurs  this  question  : — Why,  since  the  maxims 
of  natural  justice  are  few  and  evident,  do  there  arise  so  many 
doubts  and  controversies  in  their  application  ?  Or,  in  other 
words,  how  comes  it  to  pass,  that  although  the  principles  of  the 
law  of  nature  be  simple,  and  for  the  most  part  sufficiently  obvi- 
ous, there  should  exist  nevertheless,  in  every  system  of  municipal 
laws,  and  in  the  actual  administration  of  relative  justice,  nu- 
merous uncertainties  and  acknowledged  difficulty  ?    Whence,  it 


OF  JUSTICE.  33 1 

may  he  asked,  so  much  room  for  litigation,  and  so  many  subsist- 
ing disputes,  if  the  rules  of  human  duty  be  neither  obscure  nor 
dubious  ?  If  a  system  of  morality,  containing  both  the  precepts 
of  revelation,  and  the  deductions  of  reason,  may  be  comprised 
within  the  compass  of  one  moderate  volume ;  aud  the  moralist  be 
able,  as  he  pretends,  to  describe  the  rights  and  obligations  of 
mankind,  in  all  the  different  relations  they  may  hold  to  one 
another ;  what  need  of  those  codes  of  positive  and  particular  in- 
stitutions, of  those  tomes  of  statutes  and  reports,  which  require 
the  employment  of  a  long  life  even  to  pursue  ?  And  this  question 
is  immediately  connected  with  the  argument  which  has  been  dis- 
cussed in  the  preceding  paragraph  5  for,  unless  there  be  found 
some  greater  uncertainty  in  the  law  of  nature,  or  what  may  be 
called  natural  equity,  when  it  comes  to  be  applied  to  real  cases 
and  to  actual  adjudication,  than  what  appears  in  the. rules  and 
principles  of  the  science,  as  delivered  in  the  writings  of  those 
who  treat  of  the  subject,  it  were  better  that  the  determination 
of  every  cause  should  be  left  to  the  conscience  of  the  judge,  un- 
fettered by  precedents  and  authorities  j  since  the  very  purpose, 
for  which  these  are  introduced,  is  to  give  a  certainty  to  ju- 
dicial proceedings,  which  such  proceedings  would  want  without 
them. 

Now  to  account  for  the  existence  of  so  many  sources  of  litiga- 
tion, notwithstanding  the  clearness  and  perfection  of  natural  jus- 
tice, it  should  be  observed  in  the  first  place,  that  treatises  of 
morality  always  suppose  facts  to  be  ascertained  ;  and  not  only  so, 
but  the  intention  likewise  of  the  parties  to  be  known  and  laid 
bare.  For  example,  when  we  pronounce  that  promises  ought  to 
be  fulfilled  in  that  sense  in  which  the  promiser  apprehended,  at 
the  lime  of  making  the  promise,  the  other  party  received  and 
understood  it;  the  apprehension  of  one  side,  and  the  expectation 
of  the  other,  must  be  discovered,  before  this  rule  can  be  reduced 
to  practice,  or  applied  to  the  determination  of  any  actual  dispute. 
Wherefore  the  discussion  of  facts  which  the  moralist  supposes  to 
be  settled,  the  discovery  of  intentions  which  he  presumes  to  be 
known,  still  remain  to  exercise  the  inquiry  of  courts  of  justice. 
And  as  these  facts  and  intentions  are  often  to  be  inferred,  or 
rather  conjectured,  from  obscure  indications,  from  suspicious  tes- 
timony, or  from  a  comparison  of  opposite  and  contending  proba- 
bilities, they  afford  a  never  failing  supply  of  doubt  and  litigation. 


332  OF  THE  ADMINISTRATION 

For  which  reason,  as  hath  been  observed  in  a  former  part  of  this 
work,  the  science  of  morality  is  to  be  considered  rather  as  a 
direction  to  the  parties,  who  are  conscious  of  their  own  thoughts, 
and  motives,  and  designs,  to  which  consciousness  the  teacher  of 
morality  constantly  appeals ;  than  as  a  guide  to  the  judge,  or  to 
any  third  person,  whose  arbitration  must  proceed  upon  rules  of 
evidence,  and  maxims  of  credibility,  with  which  the  moralist  has 
no  concern. 

Secondly,  there  exist  a  multitude  of  cases,  in  which  the  law  of 
nature,  that  is,  the  law  of  public  expediency,  prescribes  nothing, 
except  that  some  certain  rule  be  adhered  to,  and  that  the  rule 
actually  established  be  preserved;  it  either  being  indifferent 
what  rule  obtains,  or,  out  of  many  rules,  no  one  being  so  much 
more  advantageous  than  the  rest,  as  to  recompense  the  inconven- 
ience of  an  alteration.  In  all  such  cases  the  law  of  nature  sends 
lis  to  the  law  of  the  land.  She  directs  that  either  some  fixed 
rule  be  introduced  by  an  act  of  the  legislature,  or  that  the  rule 
which  accident,  or  custom,  or  common  consent,  hath  already 
established,  be  steadily  maintained.  Thus,  in  the  descent  of 
lands,  or  the  inheritance  of  personals  from  intestate  proprietors, 
whether  the  kindred  of  the  grandmother,  or  of  the  great-grand- 
mother, shall  be  preferred  in  the  succession  ;  whether  the  degrees 
of  consanguinity  shall  be  computed  through  the  common  ancestor, 
or  from  him ;  whether  the  widow  shall  take  a  third  or  a  moiety 
of  her  husbaud's  fortune;  whether  sons  shall  be  preferred  to 
daughters,  or  the  elder  to  the  younger;  whether  the  distinction  of 
age  shall  be  regarded  amongst  sisters,  as  well  as  between  broth- 
ers; in  these,  and  in  a  great  variety  of  questions  which  the  same 
subject  supplies,  the  law  of  nature  determines  nothing.  The  only 
answer  she  returns  to  our  inquiries  is,  that  some  certain  and 
general  rule  be  laid  down  by  public  authority ;  be  obeyed  when 
laid  down ;  and  that  the  quiet  of  the  country  be  not  disturbed, 
nor  the  expectation  of  heirs  frustrated  by  capricious  innovations- 
This  silence  or  neutrality  of  the  law  of  nature,  which  we  have 
exemplified  in  the  case  of  intestacy,  holds  concerning  a  great  part 
of  the  questions  that  relate  to  the  right  or  acquisition  of  property. 
Recourse  then  must  necessarily  be  had  to  statutes,  or  precedents, 
or  usage,  to  fix  what  the  law  of  nature  has  left  loose.  The  in- 
terpretation of  these  statutes,  the  search  after  precedents,  the  in- 
vestigation of  customs,  compose  therefore  an  unavoidable,  and  at 


op  justice.  333 

the  same  time  a  large  and  intricate  portion  of  forensic  business. 
Positive  constitutions  or  judicial  authorities  are,  in  like  man- 
ner, wanted  to  give  precision  to  many  things,  which  are  in  their 
nature  indeterminate.  The  age  of  legal  discretion;  at  what  time 
of  life  a  person  shall  be  deemed  competent  to  the  performance  of 
any  act  which  may  bind  his  property ;  whether  at  twenty,  or 
twenty-one,  or  earlier  or  later,  or  at  some  point  of  time  between 
these  years,  can  only  be  ascertained  by  a  positive  rule  of  the 
society  to  which  the  party  belongs.  The  line  has  not  been  drawn 
by  nature;  the  human  understanding  advancing  to  maturity  by 
insensible  degrees,  and  its  progress  varying  in  different  individuals. 
Yet  it  is  necessary,  for  the  sake  of  mutual  security,  that  a  precise 
age  be  fixed,  and  that  what  is  fixed  be  known  to  all.  It  is  on 
these  occasions  that  the  intervention  of  law  supplies  the  incon- 
stancy of  nature.  Again,  there  are  other  things  which  are  per- 
fectly arbitrary,  and  capable  of  no  certainty  but  what  is  given  to 
them  by  positive  regulation.  It  is  fit  that  a  limited  time  should 
he  assigned  to  defendants,  to  plead  to  the  complaints  alleged 
against  them  ;  and  also  that  the  default  of  pleading  within  a  cer- 
tain time  should  be  taken  for  a  confession  of  the  charge ;  but  to 
how  many  days  or  months  that  term  should  be  extended,  though 
necessary  to  be  known  with  certainty,  cannot  be  known  at  ail  by 
any  information  which  the  law  of  nature  affords.  And  the  same 
remark  seems  applicable  to  almost  all  those  rules  of  proceeding, 
which  constitute  what  is  called  the  practice,  of  the  court ;  as  they 
cannot  be  traced  out  by  reasoning,  they  must  be  settled  by  au- 
thority. 

Thirdly,  in  contracts,  whether  express  or  implied,  which  in- 
volve a  great  number  of  conditions,  as  in  those  which  are  entered 
into  between  masters  and  servants,  principals  and  agents ;  many 
also  of  merchandise,  or  for  works  of  art;  in  some  likewise  which 
relate  to  the  negociation  of  money  or  bills,  or  to  the  acceptance  of 
credit  or  security ;  the  original  design  and  expectation  of  the  par- 
ties was,  that  both  sides  should  be  guided  by  the  course  and  custom 
of  the  country  in  transactions  of  the  same  sort.  Consequently, 
when  these  contracts  come  to  be  disputed,  natural  justice  can  only 
refer  to  that  custom.  But  as  such  customs  are  not  always  suffi- 
ciently uniform  or  notorious,  but^ften  to  be  collected  from  the 
production  and  comparison  of  instances  and  accounts  repugnant 
to  one  another  j  and  each  custom  being  only  that,  after  all,  which 


334  °F  THE  ADMINISTRATION 

amongst  a  variety  of  usages  seems  to  predominate,  we  have  kere 
also  ample  room  for  doubt  and  contest. 

Fourthly,  as  the  law  of  nature,  founded  in  the  very  construction 
of  human  society,  which  is  formed  to  endure  through  a  series  of 
perishing  generations,  requires  that  the  just  engagements  a  man 
enters  into  should  continue  in  force  beyond  his  own  life :  it  fol- 
lows that  the  private  rights  of  persons  frequently  depend  upon 
what  has  been  transacted,  in  times  remote  from  the  present,  by 
their  ancestors  or  predecessors,  by  those  under  whom  they  claim, 
or  to  whose  obligations  they  have  succeeded.  Thus  the  questions 
which  usually  arise  between  lords  of  manors  and  their  tenants, 
between  the  king  and  those  who  claim  royal  franchises,  or  between 
them  and  the  persons  affected  by  these  franchises,  depend  upon 
the  terms  of  the  original  grant.  In  like  manner  every  dispute 
concerning  tythes,  in  which  an  exemption  or  composition  is  plead- 
ed, depends  upon  the  agreement  which  took  place  between  (he 
predecessor  of  the  claimant  and  the  ancient  owner  of  the  land. 
The  appeal  to^these  grants  and  agreements  is  dictated  by  natural 
equity,  as  well  as  by  the  municipal  law  :  but  concerning  the  ex- 
istence, or  the  conditions,  of  such  old  covenants,  doubts  will  per- 
petually occur,  to  which  the  law  of  nature  affords  lio  solution. 
The  loss  or  decay  of  records,  the  perishableness  of  living  memory, 
the  corruption  and  carelessness  of  tradition,  all  conspire  to  mul- 
tiply uncertainties  upon  this  head  ;  what  cannot  be  produced  or 
proved  must  be  left  to  loose  and  fallible  presumption.  Under 
the  same  head  may  be  included  another  topic  of  altercation ; — 
the  traeing  out  of  boundaries,  whieh  time,  or  neglect,  or  unity  of 
possession,  or  mixture  of  occupation,  has  confounded  or  obliterat- 
ed. To  which  should  be  added  a  difficulty  whieh  often  presents 
itself  in  disputes  concerning  rights  of  ivay,  both  public  and  pri- 
vate, and  of  those  easements  which  one  man  claims  in  another 
man's  property ;  namely,  that  of  distinguishing,  after  a  lapse  of 
years,  the  use  of  an  indulgence  from  the  exercise  of  a  right. 

Fifthly,  the  quantity  or  extent  of  an  injury,  even  when  the  cause 
and  author  of  it  are  known,  is  often  dubious  and  undefined.  If 
the  injury  consist  in  the  loss  of  some  specific  right,  the  value  of 
the  right  measures  the  amount  of  the  injury ;  but  what  a  man 
may  have  suffered  in  his  person,  from  an  assault ;  in  his  reputa- 
tion, by  slander;  or  in  the  corafoj't  of  his  life,  by  the  seduction 
of  a  wife  or  daughter ;  or  what  sum  of  money  shall  be  deemed 


OF  JUSTICE.  33  g 

a  reparation  for  damages  such  as  these,  cannot  be  ascertained 
by  any  rules  which  the  law  of  nature  supplies.  The  law  of 
nature  commands  that  reparation  be  made  ;  and  adds  to  her 
command,  that,  when  the  aggressor  and  the  sufferer  disagree, 
the  damage  be  assessed  by  authorized  and  indifferent  arbitra- 
tors. Here  then  recourse  must  be  had  to  courts  of  law,  not  only 
with  the  permission,  but  in  some  measure  by  the  direction,  of 
natural  justice. 

Sixthly,  when  controversies  arise  in  the  interpretation  of 
written  laws,  they  for  the  most  part  arise  upon  some  contingency 
which  the  composer  of  the  law  did  not  foresee  or  think  of.  In. 
the  adjudication  of  such  cases,  this  dilemma  presents  itself;  if 
the  laws  be  permitted  to  operate  only  upon  the  cases,  which  were 
actually  contemplated  by  the  law  makers,  they  will  always  be 
found  defective  ;  if  they  be  extended  to  every  case  to  which  the 
reasoning,  and  spirit,  and  expediency  of  the  provision  seem  to 
belong,  without  any  further  evidence  of  the  intention  of  the  legis- 
lature, we  shall  allow  to  the  judges  a  liberty  of  applying  the  law, 
which  will  fall  very  little  short  of  the  power  of  making  it.  If  a 
literal  construction  be  adhered  to,  the  law  will  often  fail  of  its 
end  :  if  a  loose  and  vague  exposition  be  admitted,  the  law  might 
as  well  have  never  been  enacted  ;  for  this  license  will  bring  back 
into  the  subject  all  the  discretion  and  uncertainty  which  it  was 
'the  design  of  the  legislature  to  take  away.  Courts  of  justice 
are,  and  always  must  be,  embarrassed  by  these  opposite  difficul- 
ties ;  and  as  it  can  never  be  known  beforehand,  in  what  degree 
either  consideration  may  prevail  in  the  mind  of  the  judge,  there 
remains  an  unavoidable  cause  of  doubt,  and  a  place  for  conten- 
tion. 

Seventhly,  the  deliberations  of  courts  of  justice  upon  every 
new  question  are  encumbered  with  additional  difficulties,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  authority  which  the  judgment  of  the  court  pos- 
s^-ips.  as  a  nreced'  f  to  future  judicatures  ;  which  authority 
appertains  not  only  to  the  conclusions  the  court  delivers,  but  to 
the  principles  and  arguments  upon  which  they  are  built.  The 
view  of  riiis  effect  makes  it  necessary  for  a  judge  to  look  beyond 
the  case  before  him  ;  and,  beside  the  attention  he  owes  to  the 
trnth  an  I  Mistice  of  the  cause  between  the  parties,  to  reflect 
whether  the  principles,  and  maxims,  and  reasoning,  which  he 
adopts  and  authorizes,  can  be  applied  with  safety  to  all  cases 


336  °F  THE  ADMINISTRATION^ 

which  admit  of  a  comparison  with  the  present.  The  decision  oi 
the  cause,  were  the  effects  of  the  decision  to  stop  there,  might  he 
easy ;  but  the  consequence  of  establishing  the  principle,  which 
such  a  decision  assumes,  may  be  difficult,  though  of  the  utmost 
importance,  to  be  foreseen  and  regulated. 

Finally,  after  all  the  certainty  and  rest  that  can  be  given  to 
points  of  law,  either  by  the  interposition  of  the  legislature  or  the 
authority  of  precedents,  one  principal  source  of  disputation,  and 
into  which  indeed  the  greater  part  of  legal  controversies  may  be 
resolved,  will  remain  still,  namely,  "  the  competition  of  opposite 
analogies.''  When  a  point  of  law  has  been  once  adjudged,  nei- 
ther that  question,  nor  any  which  completely,  and  in  all  its  cir- 
cumstances, corresponds  with  that,  can  be  brought  a  second  time 
into  dispute :  but  questions  arise,  which  resemble  this  only  indi- 
rectly and  in  part,  in  certain  views  and  circumstances,  and  which 
may  seem  to  bear  an  equal  or  a  greater  affinity  to  other  adjudged 
cases ;  questions  which  can  be  brought  within  any  affixed  rule 
only  by  analogy,  and  which  hold  a  relation  by  analogy  to  differ- 
ent rules.  It  is  by  the  urging  of  the  different  analogies  that  the 
contention  of  the  bar  is  carried  on  :  and  it  is  in  the  comparison, 
adjustment,  and  reconciliation  of  them  with  one  another;  in  the 
discerning  of  such  distinctions,  and  in  the  framing  of  such  a  de- 
termination, as  may  either  save  the  various  rules  alleged  in  the 
cause,  or,  if  that  be  impossible,  may  give  up  the  weaker  analogy 
to  the  stronger,  that  the  sagacity  and  wisdom  of  the  court  are 
seen  and  exercised.  Amongst  a  thousand  instances  of  this,  we 
may  cite  one  of  general  notoriety,  in  the  contest  that  has  lately 
been  agitated  concerning  literary  property.  The  personal  in- 
dustry, which  an  author  expends  upon  the  composition  of  his 
work,  bears  so  near  a  resemblance  to  that,  by  which  every  other 
kind  of  property  is  earned,  or  deserved,  or  acquired ;  or  rather 
there  exists  such  a  correspondency  between  what  is  created  by 
the  study  of  a  man's  mind,  and  the  prodir1  ion  of  his  labour  in 
any  other  way  of  applying  it,  that  he  seems  entitled  to  the  same 
exclusive,  assignable,  and  perpetual  right  in  both ;  and  that  right 
to  the  same  protection  of  law.  This  was  the  analogy  contended 
for  on  one  side.  On  the  other  hand,  a  book,  as  to  the  author's 
right  in  it,  appears  similar  to  an  invention  of  art,  as  a  machine, 
an  engine,  a  medicine :  and  since  the  law  permits  these  to  he 
copied,  or  imitated,  except  where  an  exclusive  use  or  sale  is 


OF  JUSTICE. 


337 


reserved  to  the  inventor  by  patent,  the  same  liberty  should  be 
allowed  in  the  publication  and  sale  of  books.  This  was  the 
analogy  maintained  by  the  advocates  of  an  open  trade.  And  the 
competition  of  these  opposite  analogies  constituted  the  difficulty 
of  the  case,  as  far  as  the  same  was  argued,  or  adjudged,  upon 
principles  of  common  law. — One  example  may  serve  to  illustrate 
our  meaning;  but  whoever  takes  up  a  volume  of  reports  uill 
find  most  of  the  arguments  it  contains  capable  of  the  same 
analysis  ;  although  the  analogies,  it  must  be  confessed,  are  some- 
times so  entangled  as  not  to  be  easily  unravelled,  or  even  per- 
ceived. 

Doubtful  and  obscure  points  of  law  are  not  however  nearly  so 
numerous  as  they  are  apprehended  to  be.  Out  of  the  multitude 
of  causes,  which  in  the  course  of  each  year  are  brought  to  trial 
in  the  metropolis,  or  upon  the  circuits,  there  are  few  in  which 
any  point  is  reserved  for  the  judgment  of  superiour  courts.  Yet 
these  few  contain  all  the  doubts  with  which  the  law  is  chargea- 
ble :  for,  as  to  the  rest,  the  uncertainty,  as  hath  been  shown  above? 
is  not  in  the  law,  but  in  the  means  of  human  information. 


There  are  two  peculiarities  in  the  judicial  constitution  of  this 
country,  which  do  not  carry  with  them  that  evidence  of  their 
propriety  which  recommends  almost  every  other  part  of  the  sys- 
tem. The  first  of  these  is  the  rule,  which  requires  that  juries  be 
unanimous  in  their  verdicts.  To  expect  that  twelve  men,  taken 
by  lot  out  of  a  promiscuous  multitude,  should  agree  in  their  opin- 
ion upon  points  confessedly  dubious,  and  upon  which  oftentimes 
the  wisest  judgments  might  be  held  in  suspense  ;  or  to  suppose 
that  any  real  unanimity,  or  change  of  opinion,  in  the  dissenting 
jurors,  could  be  procured  by  confining  them  until  they  all  consent- 
ed to  the  same  verdict ;  bespeaks  more  of  the  conceit  of  a  bar- 
barous age,  than  of  the  policy  which  could  dictate  such  an  insti- 
tution as  that  of  juries.  Nevertheless,  the  effects  of  this  rule  are 
not  so  detrimental,  as  the  rule  itself  is  unreasonable  ;  in  criminal 
prosecutions  it  operates  considerably  in  favour  of  the  prisoner  ; 
for  if  a  juror  find  it  necessary  to  surrender  to  the  obstinacy  of 
43 


33S  OP  THE  ADMINISTRATION  OE  JUSTICE. 

others,  he  will  much  more  readily  resign  his  opinion  on  the  side 
of  mercy  than  of  condemnation  :  in  civil  suits  it  adds  weight  to 
the  direction  of  the  judge  ;  for  when  a  conference  with  one  an- 
other does  not  seem  likely  to  produce,  in  the  jury,  the  agreement 
that  is  necessary,  they  will  naturally  close  their  disputes  by  a 
common  submission  to  the  opinion  delivered  from  the  bench. 
However,  there  seems  to  be  less  of  the  concurrence  of  separate 
judgments  in  the  same  conclusion,  consequently  less  assurance 
that  the  conclusion  is  founded  in  reasons  of  apparent  truth  and 
justice,  than  if  the  decision  were  left  to  a  plurality,  or  to  some 
certain  majority  of  voices. 

The  second  circumstance  in  our  constitution,  which,  however 
it  may  succeed  in  practice,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  suggested 
by  any  intelligible  fitness  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  is  the  choice 
that  is  made  of  the  House  of  Lords  as  a  court  of  appeal  from 
every  civil  court  of  judicature  in  the  kingdom  ;  and  the  last  also 
and  highest  appeal  to  which  the  subject  can  resort.  There  ap- 
pears to  be  nothing  in  the  constitution  of  that  assembly  ;  in  the 
education,  habits,  character,  or  profession  of  the  members  who 
compose  it  j  in  the  mode  of  their  appointment,  or  the  right  by 
which  they  succeed  to  their  places  in  it,  that  should  qualify  them 
for  this  arduous  office  :  except,  perhaps,  that  ihe  elevation  of 
their  rank  and  fortune  affords  a  security  against  the  offer  and  in- 
fluence of  small  bribes.  Officers  of  the  army  and  navy,  courtiers, 
ecclesiastics ;  young  men  who  have  just  attained  the  age  of  twenty- 
one,  and  who  have  passed  their  youth  in  the  dissipation  and  pur- 
suits which  commonly  accompany  the  possession  or  inheritance 
of  great  fortunes  ;  country  gentlemen,  occupied  in  the  manage- 
ment of  their  estates,  or  in  the  care  of  their  domestic  concerns 
and  family  interests  ;  the  greater  part  of  the  assembly  born  to 
their  station,  that  is,  placed  in  it  by  chance  ;  most  of  the  rest  ad- 
vanced to  the  peerage  for  services,  and  from  motives,  utterly  un- 
connected with  legal  erudition  : — these  men  compose  the  tribunal, 
to  which  the  constitution  intrusts  the  interpretation  of  her  laws, 
and  the  ultimate  decisiou  of  every  dispute  between  her  subjects. 
These  are  the  men  assigned  to  review  judgments  of  law,  pro- 
nounced by  sages  of  the  profession,  who  have  spent  their  lives  m 
the  study  and  practice  of  the  jurisprudence  of  their  country.  Such 
is  the  order  which  our  ancestors  have  established.  The  effect 
only  proves  the  trutli  of  this  maxim  : — "  That  when  a  single  ia- 


OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  339 

sJitution  is  extremely  dissonant  from  other  parts  of  the  system  to 
which  it  belongs,  it  will  always  find  some  way  of  reconciling  it- 
self to  the  analogy  which  governs  and  pervades  the  rest."  By 
constantly  placing  in  the  House  of  Lords  some  of  the  most  emi- 
nent and  experienced  lawyers  in  the  kingdom  ;  by  calling  to 
their  aid  the  advice  of  the  judges,  when  any  abstract  question  of 
law  awaits  their  determination  ;  by  the  almost  implicit  and  un- 
disputed deference,  which  the  uninformed  part  of  the  house  find 
it  neeessary  to  pay  to  the  learning  of  their  colleagues,  the  appeal 
to  the  House  of  Lords  becomes  in  fact  an  appeal  to  the  collected 
■wisdom  of  our  supreme  courts  of  justice  ;  receiving  indeed  solem- 
nity, but  little  perbaps  of  direction,  from  the  presence  of  the  as- 
sembly in  which  it  is  beared  and  determined. 

These,  however,  even  if  real,  are  minute  imperfections.  A 
politician,  who  should  sit  down  to  delineate  a  plan  for  the  dis- 
pensation of  public  justice,  guarded  against  all  access  to  influence 
and  corruption,  and  bringing  together  the  separate  advantages  of 
knowledge  and  impartiality,  would  find,  when  he  had  done,  that 
he  had  been  transcribing  the  judicial  constitution  of  England. 
And  it  may  teach  the  most  discontented  amongst  us  to  acquiesce 
in  the  government  of  his  country  ;  to  reflect,  that  the  pure,  and 
wise,  and  equal  administration  of  the  laws,  forms  the  first  end 
and  blessing  of  social  union  ;  and  that  this  blessing  is  enjoyed  by 
him  in  a  perfection,  which  he  will  seek  in  vain  in  any  other  na« 
lion  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OP  CRIMES  AND   PUNISHMENTS, 

THE  proper  end  of  human  punishment  is,  not  the  satisfaction 
of  justice,  but  the  prevention  of  crimes.  By  the  satisfaction  of 
justice  I  mean  the  retribution  of  so  much  pain,  for  so  much  guilt; 
which  is  the  dispensation  we  expect  at  the  hand  of  God,  and 
which  we  are  aceustomed  to  consider  as  the  order  of  things  that 
perfect  justice  dictates  and  requires.     Jn  what  sense,  or  whether 


340  0P  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

with  truth  in  any  sense,  justice  may  be  said  to  demand  the  punish 
ment  of  offenders,  I  do  not  now  inquire  ;  but  1  assert,  that  this  de- 
mand is  not  the  motive  or  occasion  of  human  punishment.  What 
would  it  be  to  the  magistrate,  that  offences  went  altogether  un- 
punished, if  the  impunity  of  the  offenders  were  followed  by  no 
danger  or  prejudice  to  the  commonwealth  ?  The  fear  lest  the 
escape  of  the  criminal  should  encourage  him,  or  others  by  his 
example  to  repeat  the  same  crime,  or  to  commit  different  crimes, 
is  the  sole  consideration  which  authorizes  the  infliction  of  pun- 
ishment by  human  laws.  Now  that,  whatever  it  be,  which  is 
the  cause  and  end  of  the  punishment,  ought  undoubtedly  to  regu- 
late the  measure  of  its  severity.  But  this  cause  appears  to  be 
founded,  not  in  the  guilt  of  the  offender,  but  in  the  necessity  of 
preventing  the  repetition  of  the  offence :  and  hence  results  the 
reason,  that  crimes  are  not  by  any  government  punished  in  pro- 
portion to  their  guilt,  nor  in  all  cases  ought  to  be  so,  but  in  pro- 
portion to  the  difficulty  and  the  necessity  of  preventing  them. 
Thus  the  stealing  of  goods  privately  out  of  a  shop,  may  not  in 
its  moral  quality,  be  more  criminal  than  the  stealing  of  them  out 
of  a  house  ;  yet  being  equally  necessary,  and  more  difficult  to  be 
prevented,  the  law  in  certain  circumstances,  denounces  against  it 
a  severer  punishment.  The  crime  must  be  prevented  by  some 
means  or  other ;  and  consequently,  whatever  means  appear  ne- 
cessary to  this  end,  whether  they  be  proportionable  to  the  guilt 
of  the.  criminal  or  not,  are  adopted  rightly,  because  they  are 
adopted  upon  the  principle  which  alone  justifies  the  infliction  of 
punishment  at  all.  From  the  same  consideration  it  also  follows, 
that  punishment  ought  not  to  be  employed,  much  less  rendered 
severe,  when  the  crime  can  be  prevented  by  any  other  means. 
Punishment  is  an  evil  to  which  the  magistrate  resorts  only  from 
its  being  necessary  to  the  prevention  of  a  greater.  This  neces- 
sity does  not  exist,  when  the  end  may  be  attained,  that  is,  when 
the  public  may  be  defended  from  the  effects  of  the  crime,  by  any 
other  expedient.  The  sanguinary  laws  which  have  been  made 
against  counterfeiting  or  diminishing  the  gold  coin  of  the  king- 
dom might  be  just,  until  the  method  of  detecting  the  fraud,  by 
weighing  the  money,  was  introduced  into  general  usage.  Since 
that  precaution  was  practised,  these  laws  have  slept ;  and  an 
execution  under  them  at  this  day  would  be  deemed  a  measure  of 
unjustifiable  severity.    The  same  principle  accounts  for  a  circum- 


OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  3^£ 

stance,  which  has  been  often  censured  as  an  absurdity  in  the  penal 
laws  of  this,  and  of  most  modern  nations,  namely,  that  breaches 
of  trust  are  either  not  punished  at  all,  or  punished  with  less 
rigour  than  other  frauds. — Wherefore  is  it,  some  have  asked,  that 
a  violation  of  confidence,  which  increases  the  guilt,  should  miti- 
gate the  penalty  ? — This  lenity,  or  rather  forbearance,  of  the 
laws,  is  founded  in  the  most  reasonable  distinction.  A  due  cir- 
cumspection in  the  choice  of  the  persons  whom  they  trust;  cau- 
tion in  limiting  the  extent  of  that  trust;  or  the  requiring  of  suffi- 
cient security  for  the  faithful  discharge  of  it,  will  commonly 
guard  men  from  injuries  of  this  description  :  and  the  law  will  not 
interpose  its  sanctions  to  protect  negligence  and  credulity,  or  to 
supply  the  place  of  domestic  care  and  prudence.  To  be  convinced 
that  the  law  proceeds  entirely  upon  this  consideration,  we  have 
only  to  observe,  that  where  the  confidence  is  unavoidable,  where 
no  practicable  vigilance  could  watch  the  offender,  as  in  the  case  of 
theft  committed  by  a  servant,  in  the  shop  or  dwelling-house  of  his 
master,  or  upon  property  to  which  he  must  necessarily  have  ac- 
cess, the  sentence  of  the  law  is  not  less  severe,  and  its  execution 
commonly  more  certain  and  rigorous,  than  if  no  trust  at  all  had 
intervened. 

It  is  in  pursuance  of  the  same  principle,  which  pervades  indeed 
the  whole  system  of  penal  jurisprudence,  that  the  facility  with 
which  any  species  of  crimes  is  perpetrated  has  been  generally 
deemed  a  reason  for  aggravating  the  punishment.  Thus  sheep- 
stealing,  horse-stealing,  the  stealing  of  cloth  from  tenters  or 
bleaching-grounds,  by  our  laws,  subject  the  offenders  to  sentence 
of  death  :  not  that  these  crimes  are  in  their  nature  more  heinous 
than  many  simple  felonies  which  are  punished  by  imprisonment 
or  transportation,  but  because  the  property,  being  more  exposed, 
requires  the  terror  of  capital  punishment  to  protect  it.  This 
severity  would  be  absurd  and  unjust,  if  the  guilt  of  the  offender 
were  the  immediate  cause  and  measure  of  the  punishment;  but  is 
a  consistent  and  regular  consequence  of  the  supposition,  that  the 
right  of  punishment  results  from  the  necessity  of  preventing  the 
crime  :  for,  if  this  be  the  end  proposed,  the  severity  of  the  pun- 
ishment must  be  increased  in  proportion  to  the  expediency  and  the 
difficulty  of  attaining  this  end;  that  is,  in  a  proportion  com- 
pounded of  the  mischief  of  the  crime,  and  of  the  ease  with  which 
it  is  executed.     The  difficulty  of  discovery  is  a  circumstance  to  bo 


34g    '  °F  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

included  in  the  same  consideration.  It  constitutes  indeed,  with 
respect  to  the  crime,  the  facility  of  which  we  speak.  By  how 
much  therefore  the  detection  of  an  offender  is  more  rare  and  un- 
certain, by  so  much  the  more  severe  must  be  the  punishment 
when  he  is  detected.  Thus  the  writing  of  iucendiary  letters, 
though  in  itself  a  pernicious  and  alarming  injury,  calls  for  a 
more  condign  and  exemplary  punishment,  by  the  very  obseurity 
with  which  the  crime  is  committed. 

From  the  justice  of  God  we  are  taught  to  look  for  a  gradation 
of  punishment,  exactly  proportioned  to  the  guilt  of  (he  offender  : 
when,  therefore,  in  assigning  the  degrees  of  human  puuishment, 
we  introduce  considerations  distinct  from  that  guilt,  and  a  pro- 
portion so  varied  by  external  circumstances,  that  equal  crimes 
frequently  undergo  unequal  punishments,  or  the  less  crime  the 
greater  j  it  is  natural  to  demand  the  reason  why  a  different  meas- 
ure of  punishment  should  be  expected  from  God,  and  observed  by 
man  ;  why  that  rule,  which  befits  the  absolute  and  perfect  justice 
of  "the  Deity,  should  not  be  the  rule  which  ought  to  be  pursued 
and  imitated  by  human  laws.  The  solution  of  this  difficulty 
must  be  sought  for  in  those  peculiar  attributes  of  the  divine  na- 
ture, which  distinguish  the  dispensations  of  Supreme  Wisdom 
from  the  proceedings  of  human  judicature.  A  Being  whose 
knowledge  penetrates  every  concealment,  from  the  operation  of 
whose  will  no  art  or  flight  can  escape,  and  in  whose  hands  punish- 
ment is  sure;  such  a  Being  may  conduct  the  moral  government 
of  his  creation,  in  the  best  and  wisest  manner,  by  pronouncing  a 
law  that  every  crime  shall  finally  receive  a  punishment  propor- 
tioned to  the  guilt  which  it  contains,  abstracted  from  any  foreign 
consideration  whatever  :  and  may  testify  his  veracity  to  the  spec- 
tators of  his  judgments,  by  carrying  this  law  into  strict  execution. 
But  when  the  care  of  the  public  safety  is  intrusted  to  men,  whose 
authority  over  their  fellow  creatures  is  limited  by  defects  of 
power  and  knowledge  ;  from  whose  utmost  vigilance  and  sagacity 
the  greatest  offenders  often  lie  hid  ;  whose  wisest  precautions  and 
speediest  pursuit  may  be  eluded  by  artifice  or  concealment ;  a 
different  necessity,  a  new  rule  of  proceeding,  results  from  the  very 
imperfection  of  their  faculties.  In  their  hands  the  uncertainty  of 
punishment  must  be  compensated  by  the  severity.  The  ease  with 
which  crimes  are  committed  or  concealed,  must  be  counteracted 
by  additional  penalties  and  increased  terrors.     The  very  end  for 


OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS,  34g 

which  human  government  is  established,  requires  that  its  regula- 
tions be  adapted  to  the  suppression  of  crimes.  This  end,  what- 
ever it  may  do  in  the  plans  of  infinite  wisdom,  does  not,  in  the 
designation  of  temporal  penalties,  always  coincide  with  the  pro- 
portionate punishment  of  guilt. 

There  are  two  methods  of  administering  penal  justice. 

The  first  method  assigns  capital  punishments  to  few  offences, 
and  inflicts  it  invariably. 

The  second  method  assigns  capital  punishments  to  many  kinds 
of  offences,  but  inflicts  it  only  upon  a  few  examples  of  each  kind. 

The  latter  of  which  two  methods  has  been  long  adopted  in  this 
country,  where,  of  those  who  receive  sentence  of  death,  scarcely 
one  in  ten  is  executed.  And  the  preference  of  this  to  the  former 
method  seems  to  be  founded  in  the  consideration,  that  the  selec- 
tion of  proper  objects  for  capital  punishment  principally  depends 
upon  circumstances,  which,  however  easy  to  perceive  in  each 
particular  case  after  the  crime  is  committed,  it  is  impossible  to 
enumerate  or  define  beforehand ;  or  to  ascertain  however  with 
that  exactness,  which  is  requisite  in  legal  descriptions.  Hence, 
although  it  be  necessary  to  fix  by  precise  rules  of  law  the  bounda- 
ry one  side,  that  is,  the  limit  to  which  the  punishment  may  be 
extended  :  and  also  that  nothing  less  than  the  authority  of  the 
whole  legislature  be  suffered  to  determine  that  boundary,  and 
assign  these  rules  ;  yet  the  mitigation  of  punishment,  the  exercise 
of  lenity,  may  without  danger  be  intrusted  to  the  executive  magis- 
trate, whose  discretion  will  operate  upon  those  numerous  unfore- 
seen, mutable,, and  indefinite  circumstances,  both  of  the  crime  and 
the  criminal,  which  constitute  or  qualify  the  malignity  of  each 
offence.  Without  the  power  of  relaxation  lodged  in  a  living 
authority,  either  some  offenders  would  escape  capital  punishment, 
whom  the  public  safety  required  to  suffer;  or  some  would  undergo 
this  punishment,  where  it  was  neither  deserved  nor  necessary. 
For  if  judgment  of  death  were  reserved  for  one  or  two  species  of 
crimes  only,  which  would  probably  be  the  ease  if  that  judgment 
was  intended  to  be  executed  without  exception,  crimes  might  occur 
of  the  most  dangerous  example,  and  accompanied  with  circum- 
stances of  heinous  aggravation,  which  did  not  fall  within  any  des- 
cription of  offences  that  the  laws  had  made  capital,  and  which 
consequently  could  not  receive  the  punishment  their  own  malig- 
nity and  the  public  safety  required.     What  is  worse,  it  would  b& 


3^4!  0F  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

known,  beforehand,  that  such  crimes  might  be  committed  without 
danger  to  the  offender's  life.  On  the  other  hand,  if,  to  reach 
these  possible  cases,  the  whole  class  of  offences  to  which  they 
belong  be  subjected  to  pains  of  death,  and  no  power  of  remittiug 
this  severity  remain  any  where,  the  execution  of  the  laws  will 
become  more  sanguinary  than  the  public  compassion  would  en- 
dure, or  than  is  necessary  to  the  general  security. 

The  law  of  England  is  constructed  upon  a  different  and  a  better 
policy.  By  the  number  of  statutes  creating  capital  offences,  it 
sweeps  into  the  net  every  crime,  which,  under  any  possible  cir- 
cumstances, may  merit  the  punishment  of  death  ;  but,  when  the 
execution  of  this  sentence  comes  to  be  deliberated  upon,  a  small 
proportion  of  each  class  are  singled  out,  the  general  character, 
or  the  peculiar  aggravations  of  whose  crimes  render  them  fit  ex- 
amples of  public  justice.  By  this  expedient,  few  actually  suffer 
death,  whilst  the  dread  and  danger  of  it  hang  over  the  crimes  of 
many.  The  tenderness  of  the  law  cannot  be  taken  advantage  of. 
The  life  of  the  subject  is  spared,  as  far  as  the  necessity  of  restraint 
and  intimidation  permits  j  yet  no  one  will  adventure  upon  the 
commission  of  any  enormous  crime,  from  a  kuowledge  that  the 
laws  have  not  provided  for  its  punishment.  The  wisdom  and 
humanity  of  this  design  furnish  a  just  excuse  for  the  multiplicity 
of  capital  offences,  which  the  laws  of  England  are  accused  of 
creating  beyond  those  of  other  countries.  The  charge  of  cruelty 
is  answered  by  observing,  that  these  laws  were  never  meant  to  be 
carried  into  indiscriminate  execution  ;  that  the  legislature,  when 
it  establishes  its  last  and  highest  sanctions,  trusts  to  the  benignity 
of  the  crown  to  relax  their  severity,  as  often  as  circumstances 
appear  to  palliate  the  offence,  or  even  as  often  as  those  circum- 
stances of  aggravation  are  wanting,  which  rendered  this  rigorous 
interposition  necessary.  Upon  this  plan,  it  is  enough  to  vindicate 
the  lenity  of  the  laws,  that  some  instances  are  to  be  found  in  each 
class  of  capital  crimes,  which  require  the  restraint  of  capital 
punishment,  and  that  this  restraint  could  not  be  applied  without 
subjecting  the  whole  class  to  the  same  condemnation. 

There  is  however  one  species  of  crimes,  the  miking  of  which 
eapital  can  hardly,  J  think,  be  defended  even  upon  the  compre- 
hensive principle  just  now  stated  ;  I  mean  that  of  privately 
stealing  from  the  person.  As  every  degree  of  force  is  excluded 
by  the  description  of  the  crime,  it  will  be  difficult  to  assign  an  ex» 


OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  34J 

ample,  where  either  the  amount  or  circumstances  of  the  theft 
place  it  upon  a  level  with  those  dangerous  attempts,  to  which  the 
punishment  of  death  should  be  confined.  It  will  be  still  more 
difficult  to  show,  that,  without  gross  and  culpable  negligence  on 
the  part  of  the  sufferer,  such  examples  can  ever  become  so  fre- 
quent, as  to  make  it  necessary  to  constitute  a  class  of  capital 
offences,  of  very  wide  and  large  extent. 

The  prerogative  of  pardon  is  properly  reserved  to  the  chief 
magistrate.  The  power  of  suspending  the  laws  is  a  privilege  of 
too  high  a  nature  to  be  committed  to  niaDy  hands,  or  to  those  of 
any  iuferiour  officer  in  the  state.  The  king  also  can  best  collect 
the  advice  by  which  his  resolutions  shall  be  governed  ;  and  is  at 
the  same  time  removed  at  the  greatest  distance  from  the  influence 
of  private  motives.  But  let  this  power  be  deposited  where  it 
will,  the  exercise  of  it  ought  to  be  regarded,  not  as  a  favour  to  be 
yielded  to  solicitation,  granted  to  friendship,  or,  least  of  all,  to 
be  made  subservient  to  the  conciliating  or  gratifying  of  political 
attachments,  but  as  a  judicial  act;  as  a  deliberation  to  be  con- 
ducted with  the  same  character  of  impartiality,  with  the  same 
exact  and  diligent  attention  to  the  proper  merits  and  circumstan« 
ces  of  the  case,  as  that  which  the  judge  upon  the  bench  was  ex- 
pected to  maintain  and  show  in  the  trial  of  the  prisoner's  guilt. 
The  questions  whether  the  prisoner  be  guilty,  and  whether,  be- 
ing guilty,  he  ought  to  be  executed,  are  equally  questions  of  pub- 
lic justice.  The  adjudication  of  the  latter  question  is  as  much  a 
function  of  magistracy  as  the  trial  of  the  former.  The  public 
welfare  is  interested  in  both.  The  conviction  of  an  offender 
should  depend  upon  nothing  but  the  proof  of  his  guilt;  nor  the 
execution  of  the  sentence  upon  any  thing  beside  the  quality  and 
circumstances  of  his  crime.  It  is  necessary  to  the  good  order  of 
society,  and  to  the  reputation  and  authority  of  government,  that 
this  be  known  and  believed  to  be  the  case  in  each  part  of  the  pro- 
ceeding. Which  reflections  show,  that  the  admission  of  extrinsic 
or  oblique  considerations,  in  dispensing  the  power  of  pardon,  is  a 
crime,  in  the  authors  and  advisers  of  such  unmerited  partiality, 
of  the  same  nature  with  that  of  corruption  in  a  judge. 

Aggravations  which  ought  to  guide  the  magistrate  in  the  se- 
lection of  objects  of  condign  punishment  are  principally  these 
three, — repetition,  cruelty,  combination.  The  two  first,  it  is 
manifest,  add  to  every  reason  upon  which  the  justice  or  the  ne- 


346  OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS; 

cessity  of  rigorous  measures  can  be  founded ;  and,  with  respect 
to  the  last  circumstance,  it  may  be  observed,  that  when  thieves 
and  robbers  are  once  collected  into  gangs,  their  violence  becomes 
more  formidable,  the  confederates  more  desperate,  and  the  diffi- 
culty of  defending  the  public  agaiust  their  depredations  much 
greater,  than  in  the  case  of  solitary  adventurers.  Which  several 
considerations  compose  a  distinction,  that  is  properly  adverted  to, 
in  deciding  upon  the  fate  of  convicted  malefactors. 

In  crimes,  however,  which  are  perpetrated  by  a  multitude,  or 
by  a  gang,  it  is  proper  to  separate,  in  the  punishment,  the  ring- 
leader from  his  followers,  the  principal  from  his  accomplices, 
and  even  the  person  who  struck  the  blow,  broke  the  lock,  or  first 
entered  the  house,  from  those  who  joined  him  in  the  felony ;  not  so 
much  on  account  of  any  distinction  in  the  guilt  of  the  offenders, 
as  for  the  sake  of  casting  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  such  confed- 
eracies by  rendering  it  difficult  for  the  confederates  to  settle,  who 
shall  begin  the  attack,  or  to  find  a  man  amongst  their  number 
willing  to  expnse  himself  to  greater  danger  than  his  associ- 
ates. This  is  another  instance  in  which  the  punishment,  which 
expediency  directs,  does  not  pursue  the  exact  proportion  of  the 
crime. 

Injuries  effected  by  terror  and  violence,  are  those  which  it  is 
the  first  and  chief  concern  of  legal  government  to  repress;  be- 
cause, their  extent  is  unlimited  ;  because,  no  private  precaution 
can  protect  the  subject  against  them  ;  because  they  endanger  life 
and  safety,  as  well  as  property;  and,  lastly,  because  they  render 
the  condition  of  society  wretched,  by  a  sense  of  personal  insecuri- 
ty. These  reasons  do  not  apply  to  frauds,  which  circumspection 
may  prevent;  which  must  wait  for  opportunity;  which  can  pro- 
ceed only  to  certain  limits;  and,  by  the  apprehension  of  which, 
although  the  business  of  life  be  incommoded,  life  itself  is  not 
made  miserable.  The  appearance  of  this  distinction  has  led  some 
humane  writers  to  express  a  wish,  that  capital  punishments  might 
be  confined  to  crimes  of  violence. 

In  estimating  the  comparative  malignancy  of  crimes  of  violence, 
regard  is  to  be  had,  not  only  to  the  proper  and  intended  mischief 
of  the  crime,  but  to  the  fright  occasioned  by  the  attack,  to  the 
general  alarm  excited  by  it  in  others,  and  to  the  consequences 
which  may  attend  future  attempts  of  the  same  kind.  Thus,  in 
affixing  the  punishment  of  burglary,  or  of  breaking  into  dwelling- 


OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  34^ 

houses  by  night,  we  are  to' consider  not  only  the  peril,  to  which 
the  most  valuable  property  is  exposed  by  this  crime,  and  which 
may  be  called  the  direct  mischief  of  it,  but  the  danger  also  of 
murder  in  case  of  resistance,  or  for  the  sake  of  preventing  dis- 
covery, and  the  universal  dread  with  whieh  the  silent  and  defence- 
less hours  of  rest  and  sleep  must  be  disturbed,  were  attempts  of  this 
sort  to  become  frequent ;  and  which  dread  alone,  even  without  the 
mischief  which  is  the  object  of  it,  is  not  only  a  public  evil,  but 
almost  of  all  evils  the  most  insupportable.  These  circumstances 
place  a  difference  between  the  breaking  into  a  dwelling-house  by 
day,  and  by  night;  which  difference  obtains  in  the  punishment  of 
the  offence  by  the  law  of  Moses,  and  is  probably  to  be  found  in 
the  judicial  codes  of  most  countries,  from  the  earliest  ages  to  the 
present. 

Of  frauds,  or  of  injuries  which  are  effected  without  force,  the 
most  noxious  kinds  are  forgeries,  counterfeiting  or  diminishing  of 
the  coin,  and  the  steaHng  of  letters  in  the  course  of  their  convey- 
ance ;  inasmuch  as  these  practices  tend  to  deprive  the  public  of  ac- 
commodations, whieh  not  only  improve  the  conveniences  of  social 
life,  but  are  essential  to  the  prosperity,  and  even  the  existence, 
of  commerce.  Of  these  crimes  it  may  be  said,  that  although  they 
seem  to  affect  property  alone,  the  mischief  of  their  operation  does 
not  termiuate  there.  For  let  it  be  supposed,  that  the  remissness 
or  lenity  of  the  law  should,  in  any  country,  suffer  offences  of  this 
sort  to  grow  into  such  a  frequency,  as  to  render  the  use  of  money, 
the  circulation  of  bills,  or  the  public  conveyance  of  letters,  nu 
longer  safe  or  practicable;  what  would  follow,  but  that  every 
species  of  trade  and  of  activity  must  decline  under  these  discour- 
agements ;  the  sources  of  subsistence  fail,  by  which  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  country  are  supported  ;  the  country  itself,  where  the 
intercourse  of  civil  life  was  so  endangered  and  defective,  be  de- 
serted ;  and  that,  beside  the  distress  and  poverty  which  the  loss 
of  employment  would  produce  to  the  industrious  and  valuable 
part  of  the  existing  community,  a  rapid  depopulation  must  take 
place,  each  generation  becoming  less  numerous  than  the  last; 
till  solitude  and  barrenness  overspread  the  land  ;  until  a  desola- 
tion similar  to  what  obtains  in  many  countries  of  Asia,  which 
were  ouce  the  most  civilized  and  frequented  parts  of  the  world, 
succeed  in  the  place  of  crowded  cities^pf  cultivated  fields,  of 
happy  and   well-peopled  regions  ?      When   therefore  we  carry 


34)8  OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

forwards  our  views  to  the  more  distant;  but  not  less  certain  eon- 
sequences  of  these  crimes,  we  perceive  that,  though  no  living 
creature  be  destroyed  by  them,  yet  human  life  is  diminished  ; 
that  an  offence,  the  particular  consequence  of  which  deprives 
only  an  individual  of  a  small  portion  of  his  property,  and  which 
even  in  its  general  tendency  seems  to  do  nothing  more  than  ob- 
struct the  enjoyment  of  certain  public  conveniences,  may  never- 
theless, by  its  ultimate  effects,  conclude  in  the  laying  waste  of 
human  existence.  This  observation  will  enable  those,  who  re- 
gard the  divine  rule  of  "  life  for  life,  and  blood  for  blood,''  as 
the  only  authorized  and  justifiable  measure  of  capital  punish- 
ment, to  perceive,  with  respect  to  the  effects  and  quality  of  the 
actions,  a  greater  resemblance  than  they  suppose  to  exist  between 
certain  atrocious  frauds,  and  those  crimes  which  attack  personal 
safety. 

In  the  case  of  forgeries  there  appears  a  substantial  difference 
between  the  forging  of  bills  of  exchange,  or  of  securities  which 
are  circulated,  and  of  M'hich  the  circulation  and  currency  are 
found  to  serve  and  facilitate  valuable  purposes  of  commerce ;  and 
the  forging  of  bonds,  leases,  mortgages,  or  of  instruments  which 
are  not  commonly  transferred  from  one  hand  to  another ;  because, 
in  the  former  case,  credit  is  necessarily  given  to  the  signature, 
and  without  that  credit  the  negociation  of  such  property  could 
not  be  carried  on,  nor  the  public  utility  sought  from  it  be  attained : 
in  the  other  case,  all  possibility  of  deceit  might  be  precluded,  by 
a  direct  communication  between  the  parties,  or  by  due  care  in 
the  choice  of  their  agents,  with  little  interruption  to  business, 
and  without  destroying,  or  much  encumbering,  the  uses  for 
which  these  instruments  are  calculated.  This  distinction  I  ap- 
prehend to  be  not  only  real,  but  precise  enough  to  afford  a  line 
of  division  between  forgeries,  which,  as  the  law  now  stands,  are 
almost  universally  capital,  and  puaished  with  undistinguishing 
severity. 

Perjury  is  another  crime  of  the  same  class  and  magnitude. 
And,  when  we  consider  what  reliance  is  necessarily  placed  upon 
oaths ;  that  all  judicial  decisions  proceed  upon  testimony ;  that 
Consequently  there  is  not  a  right  that  a  man  possesses,  of  which 
false  witnesses  may  not  deprive  bim ;  that  reputation,  property, 
and  life  itself,  lie  openjto  the  attempts  of  perjury ;  that  it  may 
often  be  committed  without  a  possibility  of  contradiction  or  dis- 


OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  34$ 

covcry ;  that  the  success  and  prevalency  of  this  vice  tend  to  in- 
troduce the  most  grievous  and  fatal  injustice  into  the  adminis- 
tration of  human  affairs,  or  such  a  distrust  of  testimony  as  must 
create  universal  emharrassmeut  and  confusion;  when  we  reflect 
upon  these  mischiefs,  we  shall  be  brought,  probably,  to  agree 
with  the  opinion  of  those,  who  contend  that  perjurv,  in  its  punish- 
ment, especially  that  which  is  attempted  in  solemn  evidence,  and 
in  the  face  of  a  court  of  justice,  should  be  placed  upon  a  level 
with  the  most  flagitious  frauds. 

The  obtaining  of  money  by  secret  threats,  whether  we  regard 
the  difficulty  with  which  the  crime  is  traced  out,  the  odious  im- 
putations to  which  it  may  lead,  or  the  profligate  conspiracies  that 
are  sometimes  formed  to  carry  it  into  execution,  deserves  to  be 
reckoned  amongst  the  worst  species  of  robbery. 

The  frequency  of  capital  executions  in  this  country,  owes  its 
necessity  to  three  causes; — much  liberty,  great  cities,  and  the 
want  of  a  punishment  short  of  death,  possessing  a  sufficient  de- 
gree of  terror.  And  if  the  taking  away  of  the  life  of  malefactors 
be  more  rare  in  other  countries  than  in  ours,  the  reason  will  be 
found  in  some  difference  in  these  articles.  The  liberties  of  a 
free  people,  and  still  more  the  jealousy  with  which  these  liberties 
are  watched,  and  by  which  they  are  preserved,  permit  not  those 
precautions  and  restraints,  that  inspection,  scrutiny,  and  control, 
which  are  exercised  with  success  in  arbitrary  governments.  For 
example,  neither  the  spirit  of  the  laws,  nor  of  the  people,  will 
suffer  the  detention  or  confinement  of  suspected  persons,  without 
proofs  of  their  guilt,  which  it  is  often  impossible  to  obtain;  nor 
will  they  allow  that  masters  of  families  be  obliged  to  record  and 
render  up  a  description  of  the  strangers  or  inmates  whom  they 
entertain ;  nor  that  an  account  be  demanded,  at  the  pleasure  of 
the  magistrate,  of  each  man's  time,  employment,  and  means  of 
subsistence  ;  nor  securities  to  be  required  when  these  accounts  ap- 
pear unsatisfactory  or  dubious ;  nor  men  to  be  apprehended  upon 
the  mere  suggestion  of  idleness  or  vagrancy;  nor  to  be  confined 
to  certain  districts ;  nor  the  inhabitants  of  each  district  to  be 
made  responsible  for  one  another's  behaviour;  nor  passports  to 
be  exacted  from  all  persons  entering  or  leaving  the  kingdom  ; 
least  of  all  will  they  tolerate  the  appearance  of  an  armed  force, 
or  of  military  law  ;  or  suffer  the  streets  and  public  roads  to  be 
guarded  and  patrolled  by  soldiers;  or,  lastly,  intrust  the  police 


§50  OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

with  such  discretionary  powers,  as  may  make  sure  of  the  guilty, 
however  they  involve  the  innocent.  These  expedients,  although 
arbitrary  and  rigorous,  are  many  of  them  effectual ;  and  iu  pro- 
portion as  they  render  the  commission  or  concealment  of  crimes 
more  difficult,  they  subtract  from  the  necessity  of  severe  punish- 
ment.— Great  cities  multiply  crimes,  by  presenting  easier  oppor- 
tunities and  more  incentives  to  libertinism,  which  in  low  life  is 
commonly  the  introductory  stage, to  other  enormities  ;  by  collect- 
ing thieves  and  robbers  into  the  same  neighbourhood,  which  ena- 
bles them  to  form  communications  and  confederacies,  that  in- 
crease their  art  and  courage,  as  well  as  strength  and  wickedness  ; 
but  principally  by  the  refuge  they  afford  to  villainy,  in  the  means 
of  concealment,  and  of  subsisting  in  secrecy,  which  crowded 
towns  supply  to  men  of  every  description.  These  temptations 
and  facilities  can  only  be  counteracted  by  adding  to  the  number 
of  capital  punishments. — But  a  third  cause,  which  increases  the 
frequency  of  capital  executions  in  England,  is  a  defect  of  the 
laws,  in  not  being  provided  with  any  other  punishment  than  that 
of  death,  sufficiently  terrible  to  keep  offenders  in  awe.  Transporta- 
tion, which  is  the  sentence  second  in  the  order  of  severity,  appears 
to  ine  to  answer  the  purpose  of  example  very  imperfectly  ;  not  only 
because  exile  is  in  reality  a  slight  punishment  to  those  who  have 
neither  property,  nor  friends,  nor  reputation,  nor  regular  means 
of  subsistence  at  home;  and  because  their  situation  becomes  little 
worse  by  their  crime,  than  it  was  before  they  committed  it ;  but 
because  the  punishment,  whatever  it  be.  is  unobserved  and  un- 
known. A  transported  convict  may  suffer  under  his  sentence, 
hut  his  sufferings  are  removed  from  the  view  of  his  countrymen  • 
his  misery  is  unseen;  his  condition  strikes  no  terror  into  the 
minds  of  those,  for  whose  warning  and  admonition  it  was  intend- 
ed. This  chasm  in  the  scale  of  punishment  produces  also  two 
further  imperfections  in  the  administration  of  penal  justice  :  the 
first  is,  that  the  same  punishment  is  extended  to  crimes  of  very 
different  character  and  malignancy  :  the  second,  that  punishments 
separated  by  a  great  interval,  are  assigned  to  crimes  hardly  dis- 
tinguishable in  their  guilt  and  mischief. 

The  end  of  punishment  is  two-fold,  amendment  and  example. 
In  the  first  of  these,  the  reformation  of  criminals,  little  has  ever 
been  effected,  and  little,  I  fear,  is  practicable.  From  every  spe- 
cies of  punishment  that  has  hitherto  been  devised,  from  imprison- 


OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  gg  | 

ment  aud  exile,  from  pain  and  infamy,  malefactors  return  more 
hardened  in  their  crimes,  and  more  instructed.  If  there  be  any 
thing  that  shakes  the  soul  of  a  confirmed  villain,  it  is  the  expec- 
tation of  approaching  death.  The  horrors  of  this  situation  may 
cause  such  a  wrench  in  the  mental  organs,  as  to  give  them  a  hold- 
ing turn :  and  I  think  it  probable,  that  many  of  those  who  are 
executed,  would,  if  they  were  delivered  at  the  point  of  death,  re- 
tain such  a  remembrance  of  their  sensations,  as  might  preserve 
them,  unless  urged  by  extreme  want,  from  relaxing  into  their 
former  crimes.  But  this  is  an  experiment  that,  from  its  nature, 
cannot  he  repeated  often. 

Of  the  reforming  punishments  which  have  not  yet  been  tried 
none  promises  so  much  success  as  that  of  solitary  imprisonment, 
or  the  confinement  of  criminals  in  separate  apartments.  This 
improvement  augments  the  terror  of  the  punishment ;  secludes 
the  criminal  from  the  society  of  his  fellow  prisoners,  in  whieli 
society  the  worse  are  sure  to  corrupt  the  better  ;  weans  him  from 
the  knowledge  of  his  companions,  and  from  the  love  of  that  tur- 
bulent, precarious  life,  in  which  his  vices  had  engaged  him;  is 
calculated  to  raise  up  in  him  reflections  on  the  folly  of  his  choice, 
and  to  dispose  his  mind  to  such  bitter  and  continued  penitence, 
as  may  produce  a  lasting  alteration  in  the  principles  of  his  con- 
duct. 

As  aversion  to  labour  is  the  cause  from  which  half  of  the  vices 
of  low  life  deduce  their  origin  and  continuance,  punishments 
ought  to  be  contrived  with  a  view  to  the  conquering  of  this  dis- 
position. Two  opposite  expedients  have  been  recommended  for 
this  purpose  ;  the  one,  solitary  confinement,  with  hard  labour  ;  the 
ether,  solitary  confinement,  with  nothing  to  do.  Both  expedients 
seek  the  same  end ;- — to  reconcile  the  idle  to  a  life  of  industry. 
The  former  hopes  to  effect  this  by  making  labour  habitual ;  the 
latter  by  making  idleness  insupportable  :  and  the  preference  of 
one  method  to  the  other  depends  upon  the  question,  whether  a 
man  is  more  likely  to  Betake  himself,  of  his  own  accord,  to  work, 
who  has  been  accustomed  to  employment,  or  who  has  been  dis- 
tressed by  the  want  of  it  ?  When  jails  are  once  provided  for  the 
separate  confinement  of  prisoners,  which  both  proposals  require? 
the  choice  between  them  may  soon  be  determined  by  experience. 
If  labour  be  exacted,  I  would  leave  the  whole,  or  a  portion  of  the 
earnings  to  the  prisoner's  use,  and  I  would  debar  him  from  any 


332  OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

other  provision  or  supply  j  that  his  subsistence,  however  coarse 
or  penurious,  may  be  proportioned  to  his  diligence,  and  that  he 
may  taste  the  advantage  of  industry,  together  with  the  toil.  I 
would  go  further ;  I  would  measure  the  confinement,  not  by  the  du- 
ration of  time,  but  by  quantity  of  work,  in  order  both  to  exeite  in- 
dustry, and  to  render  it  more  voluntary.  But  the  principal  diffi- 
culty remains  still ;  namely,  how  to  dispose  of  criminals  after  their 
enlargement.  By  a  rule  of  life,  which  is  perhaps  too  invariably 
and  indiscriminately  adhered  to,  no  one  will  receive  a  man  or  wo- 
man out  of  a  jail,  into  any  service  or  employment  whatever.  This 
is  the  common  misfortune  of  public  punishments,  that  they  pre- 
clude the  offender  from  all  honest  means  of  future  support.*  It 
seems  incumbent  upon  the  state  to  secure  a  maintenance  to  those 
who  are  willing  to  work  for  it;  and  yet  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  divide  criminals  as  far  asunder  from  one  another  as  possible. 
Whether  male  prisoners  might  not,  after  the  term  of  their  con- 
finement was  expired,  be  distributed  in  the  country,  detained  with- 
in certain  limits, and  employed  upon  the  public  roads  ;  and  females 
be  remitted  to  the  overseers  of  country  parishes,  to  be  there  fur- 
nished with  dwellings,  and  with  the  materials  and  implements  of 
occupation  ;  whether  by  these,  or  by  what  other  methods,  it  may 
be  possible  to  effect  the  two  purposes  of  employment  and  disper- 
sion, well  merits  the  attention  of  all  who  are  anxious  to  perfect 
the  internal  regulation  of  their  country. 

Torture  is  applied  either  to  obtain  confessions  of  guilt,  or  to 
exasperate  or  prolong  the  pains  of  death.  No  bodily  punishment, 
however  excruciating  or  long  continued,  receives  the  name  of  tor- 
ture, unless  it  be  designed  to  kill  the  criminal  by  a  more  linger- 
ing death,  or  to  extort  from  him  the  discovery  of  some  secret, 
which  is  supposed  to  lie  concealed  in  his  breast.  The  question  by 
torture  appears  to  be  equivocal  in  its  effects ;  for,  since  extremity 
of  pain,  and  not  any  consciousness  of  remorse  in  the  mind,  pro- 
duces those  effects,  an  innocent  man  may  sink  under  the  torment, 
as  well  as  he  who  is  guilty.  The  latter  has  as  much  to  fear 
from  yielding  as  the  former.  The  instant  and  almost  irresistible 
desire  of  relief  may  draw  from  one  sufferer  false  accusations  of 

*  Until  this  inconvenience  be  remedied,  small  offences  had  perhaps  better 
go  unpunished ;  I  do  not  mean  that  the  laws  should  exempt  them  from  pun- 
ishment,  but  that  private  persons  should  be  tender  in  prosecuting  the.u. 


OP  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  353 

himself  or  others,  as  it  may  sometimes  extract  the  truth  out  of 
another.  This  ambiguity  renders  the  use  of  torture,  as  a  means 
of  procuring  information  in  criminal  proceedings,  liable  to  the 
risk  of  grievous  and  irreparable  injustice.  For  which  reason, 
though  recommended  by  ancient  and  general  example,  it  has  been 
properly  exploded  from  the  mild  and  cautious  system  of  penal 
jurisprudence  established  in  this  country. 

Barbarous  spectacles  of  human  agony  are  justly  found  fault 
with,  as  lending  to  harden  and  deprave  the  public  feelings,  and 
to  destroy  that  sympathy  with  which  the  sufferings  of  our  fellow 
creatures  ought  always  to  he  seen  5  or,  if  no  effect  of  this  kind 
follow  from  them,  they  counteract  in  some  measure  their  own 
design,  by  sinking  men's  abhorrence  of  the  crime  in  their  com- 
miseration of  the  criminal.  But  if  a  mode  of  execution  could  be 
devised,  which  would  augment  the  horror  of  the  punishment, 
without  offending  or  impairing  the  public  sensibility  by  cruel  or 
unseemly  exhibitions  of  death,  it  might  add  something  to  the  effi- 
eacy  of  the  example  ;  and,  by  being  reserved  for  a  few  atrocious 
crimes,  might  also  enlarge  the  scale  of  punishment :  an  addition, 
to  which  seems  wanting ;  for,  as  the  matter  remains  at  present, 
you  hang  a  malefactor  for  a  simple  robbery,  and  can  do  no  more 
to  the  villain  who  has  poisoned  his  father.  Somewhat  of  the 
sort  we  have  been  describing  was  the  proposal  not  long  since  sug- 
gested, of  casting  murderers  into  a  den  of  wild  beasts,  where  they 
would  perish  in  a  manner  dreadful  to  the  imagination,  yet  con- 
cealed from  the  view. 

Infamous  punishments  are  mismanaged  in  this  country,  with 
respect  both  to  the  crimes  and  the  criminals.  In  the  first  place, 
they  ought  to  be  confined  to  offences  which  are  held  in  undisput- 
ed aud  universal  detestation.  To  condemn  to  the  pillory  the 
author  or  editor  of  a  libel  against  the  state,  who  has  rendered 
himself  the  favourite  of  a  party,  if  not  of  the  people,  by  the  very 
act  for  which  he  stands  there,  is  to  gratify  the  offender,  and  to 
expose  the  laws  to  mockery  and  insult.  In  the  second  place,  the 
delinquents  who  receive  this  sentence  are  for  the  most  part  such 
as  have  long  ceased  either  to  value  reputation,  or  to  fear  shame ; 
of  whose  happiness,  and  of  whose  enjoyments,  character  makes 
no  part.  Thus  the  low  ministers  of  libertinism,  the  keepers  of 
baudy  or  disorderly  houses,  are  threatened  in  vain  with  a  punish- 
ment that  affects  a  sense  which  they  have  not;  that  applies  solely 

as 


§54i  OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS, 

to  the  imagination,  to  the  virtue  and  the  pride  of  human  nature, 
The  pillory,  or  any  other  infamous  distinction,  might  he  employ- 
ed rightly,  and  with  effect,  in  the  punishment  of  some  offences 
of  higher  life  ;  as  of  frauds  and  peculation  in  office  :  of  collusions 
and  connivances,  hy  which  the  public  treasury  is  defrauded;  of 
breaches  of  trust ;  of  perjury,  and  subornatiou  of  perjury;  of  the 
clandestine  and  forbidden  sale  of  places ;  of  flagraut  abuses  of 
authority,  or  negleet  of  duty  ;  and,  lastly,  of  corruption  in  the 
exercise  of  confidential  or  judicial  offices.  In  all  which,  the 
more  elevated  was  the  station  of  the  criminal,  the  more  signal 
and  conspicuous  would  be  the  triumph  of  justice. 

The  certainty  of  punishment  is  of  more  consequence  than  the 
severity.  Criminals  do  not  so  much  flatter  themselves  with  the 
lenity  of  the  sentence,  as  with  the  hope  of  escaping.  They  are 
not  so  apt  to  compare  what  they  gain  by  the  crime  with  what 
they  may  suffer  from  the  punishment,  as  to  encourage  themselves 
with  the  chance  of  concealment  or  flight.  For  which  reason  a 
vigilant  magistracy,  and  accurate  police,  a  proper  distribution  of 
force  and  intelligence,  together  with  due  rewards  for  the  discovery 
and  apprehension  of  malefactors,  and  an  undeviating  impartiality 
in  carrying  the  laws  into  execution,  contribute  more  to  the  re- 
straint and  suppression  of  crimes  than  any  violent  exacerba- 
tions of  punishment.  And  for  the  same  reason,  of  all  contrivan- 
ces directed  to  this  end,  those  perhaps  are  most  effectual  which 
facilitate  the  conviction  of  criminals.  The  offence  of  counter- 
feiting the  coin  could  not  be  checked  by  all  the  terrors  and  the 
utmost  severity  of  law,  whilst  the  act  of  coining  was  necessary 
to  be  established  by  specific  proof.  The  statute  which  made  the 
possession  of  the  implements  of  coining  capital,  that  is,  which 
constituted  that  possession  complete  evidence  of  the  offender's 
guilt,  was  the  first  thing  that  gave  force  and  efficacy  to  the  denun- 
ciations of  law  upon  this  subject.  The  statute  of  James  the  First, 
relative  to  the  murder  of  bastard  children,  which  ordains  that  the 
concealment  of  the  birth  should  be  deemed  incontestible  proof  of 
the  charge,  though  a  harsh  law,  was,  in  like  manner  with  the 
former,  well  calculated  to  put  a  stop  to  the  crime. 

It  is  upon  the  principle  of  this  observation,  that  I  apprehend 
much  harm  to  have  been  done  to  the  community,  by  the  over- 
strained scrupulousness,  or  weak  timidity  of  juries,  which  demands 
often  such  proof  of  a  prisoner's  guilt,  as  the  nature  and  secrecy  of 


OF  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS.  355 

his  crime  scarce  possibly  admit  of  ;  and  which  holds  it  tlie  part  of 
a  safe  conscience  not  to  condemn  any  man,  whilst  there  exists  the 
minutest  possibility  of  his  innocence.  Any  story  they  may  hap- 
pen to  have  heard  or  read,  whether  real  or  feigned,  in  which 
courts  of  justice  have  been  misled  by  presumptions  of  guilt,  is 
enough,  in  their  minds,  to  found  an  acquittal  upon,  where  positive 
proof  is  wanting.  I  do  not  mean  that  juries  should  indulge  con- 
jectures, should  magnify  suspicions  into  proofs,  or  even  that  they 
should  weigh  probabilities  in  gold  scales;  but  when  the  prepon- 
deration  of  evidence  is  so  manifest  as  to  persuade  every  private 
understanding  of  the  prisoner's  guilt ;  when  it  furnishes  the  de- 
gree of  credibility,  upon  which  men  decide  and  act  in  all  other 
doubts,  and  which  experience  hath  shown  that  they  may  decide 
and  act  upon  with  sufficient  safety;  to  reject  such  proof,  from  an 
insinuation  of  uncertainty  that  belongs  to  all  human  affairs,  and 
from  a  general  dread  lest  the  charge  of  innocent  blood  should  lie 
at  their  doors,  is  a  conduct  which,  however  natural  to  a  mind 
studious  to  its  own  quiet,  is  authorized  by  no  considerations  of 
rectitude  or  utility.  It  counteracts  the  care  and  damps  the  ac- 
tivity of  government :  it  holds  out  public  encouragement  to  villany, 
by  confessing  the  impossibility  of  bringing  villains  to  justice  5 
and  that  species  of  encouragement  which,  as  hath  been  just  now 
observed,  the  minds  of  such  men  are  most  apt  to  entertain  and 
dwell  upon. 

There  are  too  popular  maxims,  which  seem  to  have  a  consider- 
able influence  in  producing  the  injudicious  acquittals  of  which 
we  complain.  One  is — "  That  circumstantial  evidence  fall<*  short 
of  positive  proof."  This  assertion,  in  the  unqualified  sense  in 
which  it  is  applied,  is  not  true.  A  concurrence  of  well-authen- 
ticated circumstances  composes  a  stronger  ground  of  assurance 
than  positive  testimony,  unconfirmed  by  circumstances,  usually 
affords.  Circumstances  caunot  lie.  The  conclusion  also  which 
results  from  them,  though  deduced  by  only  probable  inference,  is 
commonly  more  to  be  relied  upon  than  the  veracity  of  an  unsup- 
ported solitary  witness.  The  danger  of  being  deceived  is  less, 
the  actual  instances  of  deception  are  fewer,  in  the  one  case  than 
the  other.  What  is  called  positive  proof  in  criminal  matters,  as 
where  a  man  swears  to  the  person  of  the  prisoner,  and  that  he  ac- 
tually saw  him  commit  the  crime  with  which  he  is  charged,  may 
be  founded  in  the  mistake  or  perjury  of  a  single  witness.     Such 


356  0F  CRIMES  AND  PUNISHMENTS. 

mistakes,  and  such  perjuries,  are  not  without  many  examples. 
Whereas,  to  impose  upon  a  court  of  justice  a  chain  of  circum- 
stantial evidence  in  support  of  a  fabricated  accusation,  requires 
such  a  number  of  false  witnesses  as  seldom  meet  together ;  an 
union  also  of  skill  and  wickedness  which  is  still  more  rare ;  and, 
after  all,  this  species  of  proof  lies  much  more  open  to  discussion, 
and  is  more  likely,  if  false,  to  be  contradicted,  or  to  betray  itself 
by  some  unforeseen  inconsistency,  than  that  direct  proof,  which 
being  confined  within  the  knowledge  of  a  single  person,  which 
appealing  to,  or  standing  connected  with,  no  external  or  collateral 
circumstances,  is  incapable,  by  its  simplicity,  of  being  confronted 
with  opposite  probabilities. 

The  other  maxim  which  deserves  a  similar  examination  is 
this — "  that  it  is  better  that  ten  guilty  persons  escape,  than  that 
one  innocent  man  should  suffer."  If  by  saying  it  is  better,  be 
meant  that  it  is  more  for  the  public  advantage,  the  proposition, 
I  think,  cannot  be  maintained.  The  security  of  civil  life,  which 
is  essential  to  the  value  and  the  enjoyment  of  every  blessing  it 
contains,  and  the  interruption  of  which  is  followed  by  universal 
misery  and  confusion,  is  protected  chiefly  by  the  dread  of  pun- 
ishment. The  misfortune  of  an  individual  (for  such  may  the 
sufferings,  or  even  the  death,  of  an  innocent  person  be  called, 
when  they  are  occasioned  by  no  evil  intention)  cannot  be  placed 
in  competition  with  this  object.  I  do  not  contend  that  the  life  or 
safety  of  the  meanest  subject  ought,  in  any  case,  to  be  knowingly 
sacrificed  :  no  principle  of  judicature,  no  end  of  punishment  can 
ever  require  that.  But  when  certain  rules  of  adjudication  must 
be  pursued,  when  certain  degrees  of  credibility  must  be  accepted, 
in  order  to  reach  the  crimes  with  which  the  public  are  infested  ; 
courts  of  justice  should  not  be  deterred  from  the  application  of 
these  rules  by  every  suspicion  of  danger,  or  by  the  mere  possibili- 
ty of  confounding  the  innocent  with  the  guilty.  They  ought 
rather  to  reflect,  that  he  who  falls  by  a  mistaken  sentence,  may 
be  considered  as  falling  for  his  country  ;  whilst  he  suffers  under 
the  operation  of  those  rules,  by  the  general  effect  and  tendency 
of  which  the  welfare  of  the  community  is  maintained  and  up- 
holder 


RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS,  &c.  357 

CHAPTER  X. 

OF  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS,  AND  OF  TOLERATION. 

"  A  RELIGIOUS  establishment  is  no  part  of  Christianity  ;  it 
is  only  the  means  of  inculcating  it."  Amongst  the  Jews,  the 
rights  and  offices,  the  order,  family,  and  succession  of  the  priest- 
hood were  marked  out  by  the  authority  which  declared  the  law 
itself.  These,  therefore,  were  parts  of  the  Jewish  religion,  as 
well  as  the  means  of  transmitting  it.  Not  so  with  the  new  insti- 
tution. It  cannot  be  proved  that  any  form  of  church  government 
was  laid  down  in  the  Christian,  as  it  had  been  in  the  Jewish 
Scriptures,  with  a  view  of  fixing  a  constitution  for  succeeding  ages  5 
and  which  constitution,  consequently,  the  disciples  of  Christianity 
would  every  where,  and  at  all  times,  by  the  very  law  of  their  re- 
ligion, be  obliged  to  adopt.  Certainly  no  command  for  this  pur- 
pose was  delivered  by  Christ  himself;  and  if  it  be  shown  that  the 
Apostles  ordained  bishops  and  presbyters  amongst  their  first  con- 
verts, it  must  be  remembered  that  deacons  also  and  deaconesses 
were  appointed  by  them,  with  functions  very  dissimilar  to  any 
which  obtain  in  the  church  at  present.  The  truth  seems  to  have 
been,  that  such  offices  were  at  first  erected  in  the  Christian 
church,  as  the  good  order,  the  instruction,  and  the  exigencies  of 
the  society  at  that  time  required,  without  any  intention,  at  least 
without  any  declared  design,  of  regulating  the  appointment, 
authority,  or  the  distinction  of  Christian  ministers  under  future 
circumstances.  This  reserve,  if  we  may  so  call  it,  in  the  Chris- 
tian Legislator,  is  sufficiently  accounted  for  by  two  considerations  : 
First,  that  no  precise  constitution  could  be  framed,  which  would 
suit  with  the  condition  of  Christianity  in  its  primitive  state,  and 
with  that  which  it  was  to  assume  when  it  should  be  advanced 
into  a  national  religion.  Secondly,  that  a  particular  designation 
of  office  or  authority  amongst  the  ministers  of  the  new  religion, 
might  have  so  interfered  with  the  arrangements  of  civil  policy,  as 
to  have  formed,  in  some  countries,  a  considerable  obstacle  to  the 
progress  and  reception  of  the  religion  itself. 

The  authority  therefore  of  a  church  establishment  is  founded 
in  its  utility  :  and  whenever,  upon  this  principle,  we  deliberate. 


358  OF  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

concerning  the  form,  propriety,  or  comparative  excellency  of 
different  establish meuts,  the  single  view  under  which  we  ought  to 
consider  any  of  them,  is  that  of  "  a  scheme  of  instruction  ;''  the 
single  end  we  ought  to  propose  by  them  is,  "  the  preservation 
and  communication  of  religious  knowledge.''  Every  other  idea, 
and  every  other  end  that  have  been  mixed  with  this,  as  the  mak- 
ing of  the  church  an  engine,  or  even  an  ally  of  the  state;  con- 
verting it  into  the  means  of  strengthening  or  diffusing  influence; 
or  regarding  it  as  a  support  of  regal  in  opposit  ion  to  popular  forms 
of  government,  have  served  only  to  debase  the  institution,  and  to 
introduce  into  it  numerous  corruptions  and  abuses. 

The  notion  of  a  religious  establishment  comprehends  three 
things:  a  clergy,  or  an  order  of  men  secluded  from  01  her  profes- 
sions to  attend  upon  the  offices  of  religion;  a  legal  provision  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  clergy  ;  and  the  confining  of  that  provi- 
sion to  the  teachers  of  a  particular  sect  of  Christianity.  If  any 
one  of  these  three  things  be  wanting;  if  there  be  no  clergy, 
as  amongst  the  Quakers  ;  or  if  the  clergy  have  no  other  provision 
than  what  they  derive  from  the  voluntary  contribution  of  their 
hearers  ;  or,  if  the  provision  which  the  laws  assign  to  the  support 
of  religion  be  extended  to  various  sects  and  denominations  of 
Christians,  there  exists  no  national  religion  or  established  church, 
according  to  the  sense  which  these  terms  are  usually  made  to 
convey.  He,  therefore,  who  would  defend  ecclesiastical  establish- 
ments, must  show  the  separate  utility  of  these  three  essential 
parts  of  their  constitution. 

1.  The  question  first  in  order  upon  the  subject,  as  well  as  the 
most  fundamental  in  its  importance,  is,  whether  the  knowledge 
and  profession  of  Christianity  can  be  maintained  in  a  country, 
without  a  class  of  men  set  apart  by  public  authority  to  the  study 
and  teaching  of  religion,  and  to  the  conducting  of  publie  worship; 
and  for  these  purposes  secluded  from  other  employments.  I  add 
this  last  circumstance,  because  in  it  consists,  as  I  take  it,  the 
substance  of  the  controversy.  Now  it  must  be  remembered,  that 
Christianity  is  an  historical  religion,  founded  in  facts  which  are 
related  to  have  passed  upon  discourses  which  were  holden,  and 
letters  which  were  written,  in  a  remote  age,  and  distant  country 
of  the  world,  as  well  as  under  a  state  of  life  and  manners,  and 
during  the  prevalency  of  opinions,  customs,  and  institutions,  very 
unlike  any  which  are  found  amongst  mankind  at  present.    More- 


AND  OF  TOLERATIONS     ^^  359 

over,  this  religion  having  been  first  published  in  the  country  of 
Judea,  and  being  built  upon  the  more  ancient  religion  of  the  Jews, 
is  necessarily  and  intimately  connected  with  the  sacred  writings, 
with  the  history  and  polity  of  that  singular  people;  to  which 
roust  be  added,  that  the  records  of  both  revelations  are  preserved 
in  languages,  which  have  long  ceased  to  be  spoken  in  any  part 
of  the  world.  Books  which  come  down  to  us  from  times  so  re- 
mote, and  under  so  many  causes  of  unavoidable  obscurity,  cannot 
it  is  evident,  be  understood  without  study  and  preparation.  The 
languages  must  be  learned.  The  various  writings  which  these 
volumes  contain  must  be  carefully  compared  with  one  another, 
and  with  themselves.  What  remains  of  contemporary  authors, 
or  authors  connected  with  the  age,  the  country,  or  the  subject  of 
our  scriptures,  must  be  perused  and  consulted,  in  order  to  inter- 
pret doubtful  forms  of  speech,  and  to  explain  allusions  which 
refer  to  objects  or  usages  that  no  longer  exist.  Above  all,  the 
modes  of  expression,  the  habits  of  reasoning,  and  argumentation, 
which  were  then  in  use,  and  to  which  the  discourses  even  of  in- 
spired teachers  were  necessarily  adapted,  must  be  sufficiently 
known,  and  can  only  be  known  at  all  by  a  due  acquaintance  with 
ancient  literature.  And,  lastly,  to  establish  the  genuineness  and 
int-egrity  of  the  canonical  scriptures  themselves,  a  series  of  testi- 
mony, recognizing  the  notoriety  and  reception  of  these  books, 
must  be  deduced  from  times  near  to  those  of  their  first  publica- 
tion, down  the  succession  of  ages  through  which  they  have  been 
transmitted  to  us.  The  qualifications  necessary  for  such  re- 
searches demand,  it  is  confessed,  a  degree  of  leisure,  and  a  kind 
of  education,  inconsistent  with  the  exercise  of  any  other  profes- 
sion; but  how  few  are  there  amongst  the  clergy,  from  whom  any 
thing  of  this  sort  can  be  expected  !  How  small  a  proportion  of 
their  number,  who  seem  likely  either  to  augment  the  fund  of 
sacred  literature,  or  even  to  collect  what  is  already  known  ! — To 
this  objection  it  may  be  replied,  that  we  sow  many  seeds  to  raise 
one  flower.  In  order  to  produce  a.feiv  capable  of  improving  and 
continuing  the  stock  of  Christian  erudition,  leisure  and  opportu- 
nity must  be  afforded  to  great  numbers.  Original  knowledge  of 
this  kind  can  never  be  universal ;  but  it  is  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance, and  it  is  enough,  that  there  be,  at  all  times,  found  some 
qualified  for  such  inquiries,  and  in  whose  concurring  and  inde- 
pendent conclusions  upon  each  subject,  the  rest  of  the  Christian 


360  OF  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

community  may  safely  confide :  whereas,  without  an  order  of 
clergy  educated  for  the  purpose,  and  led  to  the  prosecution  of 
these  studies,  by  the  habits,  the  leisure,  and  the  object  of  their 
vocation,  it  may  well  be  questioned  whether  the  learning  itself 
would  not  have  been  lost,  by  which  the  records  of  our  faith  are 
interpreted  and  defended.  We  contend,  therefore,  that  an  order 
of  clergy  is  necessary  to  perpetuate  the  evidences  of  revelation, 
and  to  interpret  the  obscurity  of  these  ancient  writings,  in  which 
the  religion  is  contained.  But  beside  this,  which  forms,  no  doubt, 
one  design  of  their  institution,  the  more  ordinary  offices  of  public 
teaching,  and  of  conducting  public  worship,  call  for  qualifica- 
tions not  usually  to  be  met  with  amidst  the  employments  of  civil 
life.  It  has  been  acknowledged  by  some,  who  cannot  be  sus- 
pected of  making  unnecessary  concessions  in  favour  of  establish- 
ments, "  to  be  barely  possible,  that  a  person  who  was  never  edu- 
cated for  the  office,  should  acquit  himself  with  decency  as  a 
public  teacher  of  religion."  And  that  surely  must  be  a  very 
defective  policy  which  trusts  to  possibilities  for  success,  when 
provision  is  to  be  made  for  regular  and  general  instruction.  Little 
objection  to  this  argument  can  be  drawn  from  the  example  of  the 
Quakers,  who,  it  may  be  said,  furnish  an  experimental  proof  that 
the  worship  and  profession  of  Christianity  may  be  upholden, 
without  a  separate  clergy.  These  sectaries  every  where  subsist 
in  conjunction  with  a  regular  establishment.  They  have  access 
to  the  writings,  they  profit  by  the  labours  of  the  clergy,  in  common 
with  other  Christians.  They  participate  in  that  general  diffusion 
of  religious  kuowledge,  which  the  constant  teaching  of  a  more 
regular  ministry  keeps  up  in  the  country:  with  such  aids,  and 
under  such  circumstances,  the  defects  of  apian  may  not  be  much 
felt,  although  the  plan  itself  be  altogether  unfit  for  general 
imitation. 

2.  If  then  an  order  of  clergy  be  necessary,  if  it  be  necessary 
also  to  seclude  them  from  the  employments  and  profits  of  other 
professions,  it  is  evident  they  ought  to  be  enabled  to  derive  a 
maintenance  from  their  own.  Now  this  maintenance  must  either 
depend  upon  the  voluntary  contributions  of  their  hearers,  or  arise 
from  revenues  assigned  by  authority  of  law.  To  the  scheme  of 
voluntary  contribution  there  exists  this  insurmountable  objection, 
that  few  would  ultimately  contribute  any  thing  at  all.  However 
the  zeal  of  a  sect,  or  the  novelty  of  a  change,  might  support  snch 


AND  OF  TOLERATION.  36£ 

an  experiment  for  a  while,  no  reliance  could  be  placed  upon  it 
as  a  general  and  permanent  provision.  It  is  at  all  times  a  bad 
constitution,  which  presents  temptations  of  interest  in  opposition 
to  the  duties  of  religion ;  or  which  makes  the  offices  of  religion 
expensive  to  those  who  attend  upon  them  5  or  which  allows  pre- 
tences of  conscience  to  be  an  excuse  for  not  sharing  in  a  public 
burden.  If,  by  declining  to  frequent  religious  assemblies,  men 
could  save  their  money,  at  the  same  time  that  they  indulged  their 
indolence,  and  their  disinclination  to  exercises  of  seriousness  and 
reflection;  or  if,  by  dissenting  from  the  national  religion,  they 
could  be  excused  from  contributing  to  the  support  of  tne  minis- 
ters of  religion,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  many  would  take  advantage 
of  the  option  which  was  thus  imprudently  left  open  to  them,  and 
that  this  liberty  might  finally  operate  to  the  decay  of  virtue,  and 
an  irrecoverable  forgetfulness  of  all  religion  in  the  country.  Is 
there  not  too  much  reason  to  fear,  that  if  it  were  referred  to  the 
discretion  of  each  neighbourhood,  whether  they  would  maintain 
amongst  them  a  teacher  of  religion  or  not,  many  districts  would 
remain  unprovided  with  any  ;  that  with  the  difficulties  which 
encumber  every  measure  requiring  the  co-operation  of  numbers, 
and  where  each  individual  of  the  number  has  an  interest  secretly 
pleading  against  the  success  of  the  measure  itself,  associations 
for  the  support  of  Christian  worship  and  instruction,  would 
neither  be  numerous  nor  long  continued  ?  The  devout  and  pious 
might  lament  in  vain,  the  want  or  the  distance  of  a  religious 
assembly  :  they  could  not  form  or  maintain  one,  without  the 
concurrence  of  neighbours  who  felt  neither  their  zeal  nor  their 
liberality. 

From  the  difficulty  with  which  congregations  would  be  estab- 
lished and  upheld  upon  the  voluntary  plan,  let  us  carry  our 
thoughts  to  the  condition  of  those  who  are  to  officiate  in  them. 
Preaching,  in  time,  would  become  a  mode  of  begging.  With 
what  sincerity,  or  with  what  dignity,  can  a  preacher  dispense  the 
truths  of  Christianity,  whose  thoughts  are  perpetually  solicited  to 
the  reflection  how  he  may  increase  his  subscription  ?  His  elo- 
quence, if  he  possess  any,  resembles  rather  the  exhibition  of  a 
player  who  is  computing  the  profits  of  his  theatre,  than  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  man,  who,  feeling  himself  the  awful  expectations  of 
religion,  is  seeking  to  bring  others  to  such  a  sense  and  under- 
standing of  their  duty  as  may  save  their  souls.  Moreover,  a  little 
46 


36g  OF  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

experience  of  the  disposition  of  the  common  people  will  in  every 
country  inform  us,  that  it  is  one  thing  to  edify  them  in  Christian 
knowledge,  and  another  to  gratify  their  taste  for  vehement,  im- 
passionate  oratory ;  that  he,  not  only  whose  success,  but  whose 
subsistence  depends  upon  collecting  and  pleasing  a  crowd,  must 
resort  to  other  arts  than  the  acquirement  and  communication  of 
sober  and  profitable  instruction.  For  a  preacher  to  be  thus  at 
the  mercy  of  his  audience;  to  be  obliged  to  adapt  his  doctrines 
to  the  pleasure  of  a  capricious  multitude;  to  be  continually 
affecting  a  style  and  manner  neither  natural  to  him,  nor  agreea- 
ble to  his  judgment ;  to  live  in  constant  bondage  to  tyrannical 
and  insolent  directors,  are  circumstances  so  mortifying,  not  ouly 
to  the  pride  of  the  human  heart,  but  to  the  viituous  love  of  inde- 
pendency, that  they  are  rarely  submitted  to  without  a  sacrifice  of 
principle,  and  a  depravation  of  character  ; — at  least  it  may  be 
pronounced,  that  a  ministry  so  degraded  would  soon  fall  into  the 
lowest  hands  ;  for  it  would  be  found  impossible  to  engage  men  of 
worth  and  ability  in  so  precarious  and  humiliating  a  profession. 

If  in  deference  then  to  these  reasons,  it  be  admitted,  that  a 
legal  provision  for  the  clergy,  compulsory  upon  those  who  contri- 
bute to  it,  is  expedient ;  the  next  question  will  be,  whether  this 
provision  should  be  confined  to  one  sect  of  Christianity,  or  extended 
indifferently  to  all.  Now  it  should  be  observed,  that  this  question 
never  can  offer  itself  where  the  people  are  agreed  in  their  reli- 
gious opinions  ;  and  that  it  never  ought  to  arise,  where  a  system 
may  be  framed  of  doctrines  and  worship  wide  enough  to  compre- 
hend their  disagreement ;  and  which  might  satisfy  all  by  uniting 
all  in  the  articles  of  their  common  faith,  and  in  a  mode  of  divina 
worship  that  omits  every  subjeet  of  controversy  or  offence. 
Where  such  a  comprehension  is  practicable,  the  comprehending 
religion  ought  to  be  made  that  of  the  state.  But  if  this  be  des- 
paired of;  if  religious  opinions  exist,  not  only  so  various,  but  s© 
contradictory,  as  to  render  it  impossible  to  reconcile  them  to  each 
other,  or  to  any  one  confession  of  faith,  rule  of  discipline,  or  form 
of  worship  ;  if,  consequently,  separate  congregations  and  different 
sects  must  unavoidably  continue  in  the  country  :  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, whether  the  laws  ought  to  establish  one  sect  in  pre- 
ference to  the  rest,  that  is,  whether  they  ought  to  confer  the  pro- 
vision assigned  to  the  maintenance  of  religion  upon  the  teachers 
of  one  system  of  doctrines  alone,  becomes  a  question  of  necessary 


AND  OF  TOLERATION.  36§ 

discussion  and  of  great  importance.  And  whatever  we  may  de- 
termine concerning  speculative  rights  aud  abstract  proprieties, 
when  we  set  about  the  framing  of  an  ecclesiastical  constitution 
adapted  to  real  life,  aud  to  the  actual  state  of  religion  in  the 
country,  we  shall  find  this  question  very  nearly  related  to  and 
principally  indeed  dependent  upon  another ;  namely,  "  In  what 
way,  or  by  whom,  ought  the  ministers  of  religion  to  be  appointed?" 
If  the  species  of  patronage  be  retained  to  which  we  are  accus- 
tomed in  this  country,  and  which  allows  private  individuals  to 
nominate  teachers  of  religiou  for  districts  aud  congregations  to 
which  they  are  absolute  strangers ;  without  some  test  proposed 
to  the  persons  nominated,  the  utmost  discordancy  of  religious 
opinions  might  arise  between  the  several  teachers  and  their  re- 
spective congregations.  A  popish  patron  might  appoint  a  priest 
to  say  mass  to  a  congregation  of  protestants  ;  an  episcopal  cler- 
gyman be  sent  to  officiate  iu  a  parish  of  presbyterians  j  or  a  pres- 
hyterian  divine  to  inveigh  against  the  errors  of  popery  before  an 
audience  of  papists.  The  requisition  then  of  subscription,  or 
any  other  test  by  which  the  national  religion  is  guarded,  maybe 
considered  merely  as  a  restriction  upon  the  exercise  of  private 
patronage.  The  laws  speak  to  the  private  patron  thus :  "Of 
those  whom  we  have  previously  pronounced  to  be  fitly  qualified 
to  teach  religion,  we  allow  you  to  select  one  ;  but  we  do  not  allow 
you  to  decide  what  religion  shall  be  established  in  a  particular 
district  of  the  country  ;  for  which  decision  you  are  nowise  fitted 
by  any  qualifications  which,  as  a  private  patron,  you  may  happen 
to  possess.  If  it  be  necessary  that  the  point  be  determined  for 
the  inhabitants  by  any  other  will  than  their  own,  it  is  surely 
better  that  it  should  be  determined  by  a  deliberate  resolution  of 
the  legislature,  than  by  the  casual  inclination  of  an  individual, 
by  whom  the  right  is  purchased,  or  to  whom  it  devolves  as  a 
mere  secular  inheritance.''  Wheresoever,  therefore,  this  consti- 
tution of  patronage  is  adopted,  a  uational  religion,  or  the  legal 
preference  of  one  particular  religion  to  all  others,  must  almost 
necessarily  accompany  it.  But,  secondly,  let  it  be  supposed  that 
the  appointment  of  the  minister  of  religion  was  in  every  parish 
left  to  the  choice  of  the  parishioners,  might  not  this  choice,  we 
ask,  be  safely  exercised  without  its  being  limited  to  the  teachers 
of  any  particular  sect  ?  The  effect  of  such  a  liberty  must  be,  that 
%  papist,  or  a  presbyterian,  a  methodist,  a  moravian,  «r  an  aaa- 


304.  op  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

baptist,  would  successively  gain  possession  of  the  pulpit,  accord= 
ing  as  a  majority  of  the  party  happened  at  each  election  to  pre- 
vail.    Now  with  what  violence  the  conflict  would  upon  every 
vacancy  be  renewed ;  what  bitter  animosities  would  be  revived, 
or  rather  be  constantly  fed  and  kept  alive  in  the  neighbourhood  j 
with  what  unconquerable  aversion  the  teacher  and  his  religion 
would  be  received   by  the  defeated  party,  may  be  foreseen  by 
those  who  reflect  with  how  much  passion  every  dispute  is  carried 
on,  in  which  the  name  of  religion  can  be  made  to  mix  itself; 
much  more  where  the  cause  itself  is  concerned  so  immediately  as 
it  would  be  in  this.     Or,  thirdly,  if  the  state  appoint  the  minis- 
ters of  religion,  this  constitution  will  differ  little  from  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  national  religion  ;  for  the  state  will,  undoubtedly, 
appoint  those,  and  those  alone,    whose  religious   opinions,    or 
rather  whose  religious  denominations,  agree  with  its  own  ;  unless 
it  be  thought  that  any  thing  would  be  gained  to  religious  liberty 
by  transferring  the  choice  of  the  national  religion  from  the  legis- 
lature of  the  country  to  the  magistrate  who  administers  the  ex- 
ecutive government.     The  only  plan  which  seems  to  render  the 
legal  maintenance  of  a  clergy  practicable,  without  the  legal  pre- 
ference of  one  sect  of  Christians  to  others,  is  that  of  an  experi- 
ment which  is  said  to  be  attempted  or  designed  in  some  of  the 
new  states  of  North-America.     The  nature  of  the  plan  is  thus 
described  : — A  tax  is  levied  upon  the  inhabitants  for  the  general 
support  of  religion ;  the  collector  of  the  tax  goes  round  with  a 
register  in  his  hand,  in  which  are  inserted,  at  the  head  of  so  many 
distinct  columns,  the  names  of  the  several  religious  sects  that  are 
professed  in  the  country.     The  person  who  is  called  upon  for  the 
assessment,  as  soon  as  he  has  paid  his  quota,  subscribes  his  name 
and  the  sum  in  which  of  the  columns  he  pleases  ;  and  the  amount 
of  what  is  collected  in  each  column  is  paid  over  to  the  minister 
of  that  denomination.     In  this  scheme  it  is  not  left  to  the  option 
of  the  subject,  whether  he  will  contribute,  or  how  much  he  shall 
contribute,  to  the  maintenance  of  a  Christian  ministry  :  it  is  only 
referred  to  his  choice  to  determine  by  what  sect  his  contribution 
shall  be  received.     The  above   arrangement  is  undoubtedly  the 
best  that  has  been  proposed  upon  this  principle  :  it  bears  the  ap- 
pearance of  liberality  and  justice;  it  may  contain  some  solid  ad- 
vantages ;  nevertheless,  it  labours  under  inconveniences  which 
will  be  found,  I  think,  upon  trial,  to  overbalance  all  its  recommen- 


AND  OF  TOLERATION.  SB 5 

dations.  It  is  scarcely  compatible  with  that,  which  is  the  first 
requisite  in  an  ecclesiastical  establishment, — the  division  of  the 
country  into  parishes  of  a  commodious  extent.  If  the  parishes 
he  small,  and  ministers  of  every  denomination  be  stationed  in 
each,  which  the  plan  seems  to  suppose,  the  expense  of  their 
maintenance  will  become  too  burthensome  a  charge  for  the  coun- 
try to  support.  If,  to  reduce  the  expense,  the  districts  be  enlarg- 
ed, the  place  of  assembling  will  oftentimes  be  too  far  removed 
from  the  residence  of  the  persons  who  ought  to  resort  to  it.  Again, 
the  making  the  pecuniary  success  of  the  different  teachers  of  re- 
ligion to  depend  upon  the  number  and  wealth  of  their  respective 
followers,  would  naturally  generate  strifes  and  indecent  jealousies 
amongst  them ;  as  well  as  produce  a  polemical  and  proselyting 
spirit,  founded  in  or  mixed  with  views  of  private  gain,  which 
would  both  deprave  the  principles  of  the  clergy,  and  distract  the 
country  with  endless  contentions. 

The  argument,  then,  by  which  ecclesiastical  establishments 
are  defended,  proceeds  by  these  steps.  The  knowledge  and 
profession  of  Christianity  cannot  be  upholden  without  a  clergy ; 
a  clergy  cannot  be  supported  without  a  legal  provision  ;  a  legal 
provision  for  the  clergy  cannot  be  constituted  without  the  prefer- 
ence of  one  sect  of  Christians  to  the  rest  :  and  the  conclusion  will 
be  conveniently  satisfactory  in  the  degree  in  which  the  truth  of 
these  several  propositions  can  be  made  out. 

If  it  be  deemed  expedient  to  establish  a  national  religion,  that 
is  to  say,  one  sect  in  preference  to  all  others  ;  some  test,  by  which 
the  teachers  of  that  sect  may  be  distinguished  from  the  teachers 
of  different  sects,  appears  to  be  an  indispensable  consequence. 
The  existence  of  such  an  establishment  supposes  it :  the  very 
notion  of  a  national  religion  includes  that  of  a  test. 

But  this  necessity,  which  is  real,  hath,  according  to  the  fashion 
of  human  affairs,  furnished  to  almost  every  church  a  pretence 
for  extending,  multiplying,  and  continuing  such  tests  beyond  what 
the  occasion  justified.  For  though  some  purposes  of  order  and 
tranquillity  may  be  answered  by  the  establishment  of  creeds  and 
confessions,  yet  they  are  at  all  times  attended  with  serious  incon- 
veniences. They  check  inquiry  ;  they  violate  liberty  ;  they  ensnare 
the  consciences  of  the  clergy,  by  holding  out  temptations  to  pre- 
varication ;  however  they  may  express  the  persuasion,  or  be  accom- 
modated to  the  controversies,  or  to  the  fears,  of  tho  age  in  which 


365  OE  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS; 

they  are  composed,  in  process  of  time,  and  by  reasou  of  tbc 
changes  which  are  wont  to  take  place  in  the  judgment  of  man- 
kind upon  religious  subjects,  they  come  at  leugtb  to  contradiet 
the  actual  opinions  of  the  church,  whose  doctrines  they  profess 
to  contaiu  ;  and  they  often  perpetuate  the  proscription  of  sects 
and  tenets,  from  which  any  danger  has  long  ceased  to  be  appre- 
hended. 

It  may  not  follow  from  these  objections,  that  tests  and  subscrip- 
tions ought  to  be  abolished  ;  but  it  follows,  that  they  ought  to  be 
made  as  simple  and  easy  as  possible  :  that  they  should  be 
adapted  from  time  to  time,  to  the  varying  sentiments  and  circum- 
stances of  the  church  in  which  they  are  received  ;  and  that  they 
should  at  no  time  advance  one  step  farther  than  some  subsisting 
necessity  requires.  If,  for  instance,  promises  of  conformity  to 
the  rites,  liturgy,  and  offices  of  the  church,  be  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent confusion  and  disorder  in  the  celebration  of  divine  worship, 
then  such  promises  ought  to  be  accepted  in  the  place  of  stricter 
subscriptions.  If  articles  of  peace,  as  they  are  called,  that  is, 
engagements  not  to  preach  certain  doctrines,  nor  to  revive  cer- 
tain controversies,  would  exclude  indecent  altercations  amongst 
the  national  clergy,  as  well  as  secure  to  the  public  teaching  of 
religion  as  much  of  uniformity  and  quiet  as  is  necessary  to  edifi- 
cation ;  then  confessions  of  faith  ought  to  be  converted  into  arti- 
cles of  peace.  In  a  word,  it  ought  to  be  held  a  sufficient  reason 
for  relaxing  the  terms  of  subscription,  or  for  dropping  any  or  all 
of  the  articles  to  be  subscribed,  that  no  present  necessity  requires 
the  strictness  which  is  complained  of,  or  that  it  should  be  extend- 
ed to  so  many  points  of  doctrine. 

The  division  of  the  couutry  into  districts,  and  the  stationing 
in  each  district  a  teacher  of  religion,  forms  the  substantial  part 
of  every  church  establishment.  The  varieties  that  have  been  in- 
troduced into  the  government  and  discipline  of  different  churches 
are  of  inferiour  importance,  when  compared  with  this,  in  which 
they  all  agree.  Of  these  economical  questions,  none  seems  more 
material  than  that  which  has  been  long  agitated  in  the  reformed 
churches  of  Christendom,  whether  a  parity  amongst,  the  clergy, 
or  a  distinction  of  orders  in  the  ministry,  be  more  conducive  to 
the  general  ends  of  the  institution.  In  favour  of  that  system 
which  the  laws  of  this  eountry  have  preferred,  we  may  allege  the 
following  reasons  :  that  it  secures  tranquillity  arid  subordination 


AND  OF  TOLERATION,  367 

amongst  the  elergy  themselves  ;  that  it  corresponds  with  the  gra- 
dations of  rank  in  civil  life,  and  provides  for  the  edification  of 
each  rank,  by  stationing  in  each  an  order  of  clergy  of  their  own. 
class  and  quality  ;  and  lastly,  that  the  same  fund  produces  more 
effect,  both  as  an  allurement  to  men  of  talents  to  enter  into  the 
church,  and  as  a  stimulus  to  the  industry  of  those  who  are  al- 
ready in  it,  when  distributed  into  prizes  of  different  value,  than 
when  divided  into  equal  shares. 

After  the  state  has  once  established  a  particular  system  of 
faith  as  a  national  religion,  a  question  will  soon  occur,  concern- 
ing the  treatment  and  toleration  of  those  who  dissent  from  it. 
This  question  is  properly  preceded  by  another,  concerning  the 
right  which  the  civil  magistrate  possesses  to  interfere  in  matters 
of  religion  at  all  ;  for,  although  this  right  be  acknowledged 
whilst  he  is  employed  solely  in  providing  means  of  public  instruc- 
tion, it  will  probably  be  disputed,  indeed  it  ever  has  been,  when 
he  proceeds  to  inflict  penalties,  to  impose  restraints  or  incapaci- 
ties on  the  account  of  religious  distinctions.  They  who  admit  no 
other  just  original  of  civil  government,  than  what  is  founded  in 
some  stipulation  with  its  subjects,  are  at  liberty  to  contend  that 
the  concerns  of  religion  were  excepted  out  of  the  social  compact; 
that  in  an  affair  which  can  only  be  transacted  between  God  and 
a  man's  own  conscience,  no  commission  or  authority  was  ever 
delegated  to  the  civil  magistrate,  or  could  indeed  be  transferred 
from  the  person  himself  to  any  other.  We,  however,  who  have 
rejected  this  theory,  because  we  cannot  discover  any  actual  con- 
tract between  the  state  and  the  people,  and  because  we  cannot 
allow  an  arbitrary  fiction  to  be  made  the  foundation  of  real  rights 
and  of  real  obligations,  find  ourselves  precluded  from  this  dis- 
tinction. The  reasoning  which  deduces  the  authority  of  civil 
government  from  the  will  of  God,  and  which  collects  that  will 
from  public  expediency  alone,  binds  us  to  the  unreserved  conclu- 
sion, that  the  jurisdiction  of  the  magistrate  is  limited  by  no  con- 
sideration but  that  of  general  utility  :  in  plainer  terms,  that 
whatever  be  the  subject  to  be  regulated,  it  is  lawful  for  him  to 
interfere  whenever  his  interference,  in  its  general  tendency, 
appears  to  be  conducive  to  the  common  interest.  There  is  noth- 
ing in  the  nature  of  religion,  as  such,  which  exempts  it  from  the 
authority  of  the  legislator,  when  the  safety  or  welfare  of  the 
community  requires  his  interposition.     It  has  been  said,  indeed. 


36S  0F  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS; 

that  religion,  pertaining  to  the  interests  of  a  life  to  come,  lies  be- 
yond the  province  of  civil  government,  the  office  of  which  is  con- 
fined to  the  affairs  of  this  life.  But,  iu  reply  to  this  objection,  it 
may  be  observed,  that  when  the  laws  interfere  even  in  religion, 
they  interfere  only  with  temporals  ;  their  effects  terminate,  their 
power  operates  only  upon  those  rights  and  interests,  which  con- 
fessedly belong  to  their  disposal.  The  acts  of  the  legislature, 
the  edicts  of  the  prince,  the  sentence  of  the  judge,  cannot  affect 
ray  salvation ;  nor  do  they,  without  the  most  absurd  arrogance, 
pretend  to  any  such  power :  but  they  may  deprive  me  of  liberty, 
of  property,  and  even  of  life  itself;  on  account  of  my  religion  ; 
and  however  I  may  complain  of  the  injustice  of  the  senteuce,  by 
which  I  am  condemned,  I  cannot  allege,  that  the  magistrate  has 
transgressed  the  boundaries  of  his  jurisdiction  ;  because  the  prop- 
erty, the  liberty,  and  the  life  of  the  subject,  may  be  taken  away 
by  the  authority  of  the  laws,  for  any  reason,  which,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  the  legislature,  renders  such  a  measure  necessary  to  the 
common  welfare.  Moreover,  as  the  precepts  of  religion  may 
regulate  all  the  offices  of  life,  or  may  be  so  construed  as  to  extend 
to  all,  the  exemption  of  religion  from  the  control  of  human  laws 
might  afford  a  plea,  which  would  exclude  civil  government  from 
every  authority  over  the  conduct  of  its  subjects.  Religious  liberty 
is,  like  civil  liberty,  not  an  immunity  from  restraint,  but  the  being 
restrained  by  no  law,  but  what  in  a  greater  degree  conduces  to 
the  public  welfare. 

Still  it  is  right  "  to  obey  God  rather  than  man."  Nothing  that 
we  have  said  encroaches  upon  the  truth  of  this  sacred  and  undis- 
puted maxim  :  the  right  of  the  magistrate  to  ordain,  and  the  obli- 
gation of  the  subject  to  obey,  in  matters  of  religion,  maybe  very 
different;  and  will  be  so  as  often  as  they  flow  from  opposite  ap- 
prehensions of  the  divine  will.  In  affairs  that  are  properly  of  a 
civil  nature;  in  "  the  things  that  are  Cassar's,5'  this  difference 
seldom  happens.  The  law  authorizes  the  act  which  it  enjoins; 
revelation  being  either  silent  upon  the  subject,  or  referring  to  the 
laws  of  the  country,  or  requiring  only  that  men  act  by  some  fixed 
rule,  and  that  this  rule  be  established  by  competent  authority. 
But  when  human  laws  interpose  their  direction  in  matters  of 
religion,  by  dictating,  for  example,  the  object  or  the  mode  of 
divine  worship  ;  by  prohibiting  the  profession  of  some  articles  of 
faith,  and  by  exacting  that  of  others,  they  are  liable  to  clash 


AND  OF  TOLERATION.  §69 

with  what  private  persons  believe  to  be  already  settled  by  pre- 
cepts of  revelation ;  or  to  contradict  what  God  himself,  they 
think,  hath  declared  to  be  true.  In  this  case,  on  whichever  side 
the  mistake  lies,  or  whatever  plea  the  state  may  allege  to  justify 
its  edict,  the  subject  can  have  none  to  excuse  his  compliance. 
The  same  consideration  also  points  out  the  distinction,  as  to  the 
authority  of  the  state,  between  temporals  and  spirituals.  The 
magistrate  is  not  to  be  obeyed  in  temporals  more  than  in  spir- 
ituals, where  a  repugnancy  is  perceived  between  his  commands., 
and  any  credited  manifestations  of  the  divine  will ;  but  such  repug- 
nancies are  much  less  likely  to  arise  in  one  ease  than  the  other. 

When  we  grant  that  it  is  lawful  for  the  magistrate  to  interfere 
in  religion  as  often  as  his  interference  appears  to  him  to  conduce, 
in  its  general  tendency,  to  the  public  happiness;  it  may  be  argu- 
ed, from  this  concession,  that,  since  salvation  is  the  highest  in- 
terest of  mankind,  and  since,  consequently,  to  advance  that  is  to 
promote  the  public  happiness  in  the  best  way,  and  in  the  greatest 
degree,  in  which  it  can  be  promoted,  it  follows,  that  it  is  not  only 
the  right,  but  the  duty  of  every  magistrate,  invested  with  supreme 
power,  to  enforce  upon  his  subjects  the  reception  of  that  religion, 
which  he  deems  most  acceptable  to  God ;  and  to  enforce  it  by 
such  methods  as  may  appear  most  effectual  for  the  end  proposed* 
A  popish  king,  for  example,  who  should  believe  that  salvation  is 
not  attainable  out  of  the  precincts  of  the  Romish  church,  would 
derive  a  right  from  our  principles  (not  to  say  that  he  would  be 
bound  by  them,)  to  employ  the  power  with  which  the  constitution 
intrusted  him,  and  which  power,  in  absolute  monarchies,  com- 
mands the  lives  and  fortunes  of  every  subject  of  the  empire,  in 
reducing  his  people  within  that  communion.  We  confess  that 
this  consequence  is  inferred  from  the  principles  we  have  laid  down 
concerning  the  foundation  of  civil  authority,  not  without  the  re- 
semblance of  a  regular  deduction;  we  confess  also  that  it  is  a 
conclusion  which  it  behoves  us  to  dispose  of;  because,  if  it  really 
follow  from  our  theory  of  government,  the  theory  itself  ought  to 
be  given  up.  Now  it  will  be  remembered,  that  the  terms  of  our 
proposition  are  these :  "  That  it  is  lawful  for  the  magistrate  to 
interfere  in  the  affairs  of  religion,  whenever  his  interference  ap- 
pears to  him  to  conduce,  by  its  general  tendency,  to  the  public 
happiness."  The  clause  of  "  general  tendency,"  when  this  rule 
comes  to  be  applied,  will  be  found  a  very  significant  part  of  the 

47 


3^0  0F  RELIGIOtfS  ESTABLISHMENTS., 

direction.  It  obliges  the  magistrate  to  reflect,  not  only  whether 
the  religion  which  he  wishes  to  propagate  amongst  his  subjects, 
be  that  which  will  best  secure  their  eternal  welfare;  not  only, 
whether  the  methods  he  employs  be  likely  to  effectuate  the  estab- 
lishment of  that  religion;  but  also  upon  this  further  question, 
whether  the  kind  of  interference  which  he  is  about  to  exercise,  if 
it  were  adopted  as  a  common  maxim  amongst  states  and  priuces, 
or  received  as  a  general  rule  for  the  conduct  of  government  in 
matters  of  religion,  would  upon  the  whole,  and  in  the  mass  of 
instances  in  which  his  example  might  be  imitated,  conduce  to  the 
furtherance  of  human  salvation.  If  the  magistrate,  for  example 
should  think  that,  although  the  application  of  his  power  might, 
in  the  instance  concerning  which  he  deliberates,  advance  the  true 
religion,  and  together  with  it  the  happiness  of  his  people,  yet 
that  the  same  engine,  in  other  hands,  who  might  asstt  me  the  right 
to  use  it  with  the  like  pretensions  of  reason  and  authority  that  he 
himself  alleges,  would  more  frequently  shut  out  truth,  and  ob- 
struct the  means  of  salvation  ;  he  would  be  bound  by  this  opinion, 
still  admitting  public  utility  to  be  the  supreme  rule  of  his  con- 
duct, to  refrain  from  expedients,  which,  whatever  particular  effects 
he  may  expect  from  them,  are,  in  their  general  operation,  danger- 
ous or  hurtful.  If  there  be  any  difficulty  in  the  subject,  it  arises 
from  that  which  is  the  cause  of  every  difficulty  in  morals; — the 
competition  of  particular  and  general  consequences;  or,  what  is 
the  same  thing,  the  submission  of  one  general  rule  to  another 
rule  which  is  still  more  general. 

Bearing  then  in  mind  that  it  is  the  general  tendeney  of  the 
measure,  or,  in  other  words,  the  effects  which  would  arise  from 
the  measure  being  generally  adopted,  that  fixes  upon  it  the  char- 
acter of  rectitude  or  injustice  ;  we*  proceed  to  inquire  what  is  the 
degree  and  the  sort  of  interference  of  secular  laws  in  matters  of 
religion,  which  are  likely  to  be  beneficial  to  the  public  happiness. 
There  are  two  maxims  which  will  in  a  great  measure  regulate  our 
conclusions  upon  this  head.  The  first  is,  that  any  form  of  Chris- 
tianity is  better  than  no  religion  at  all :  the  second,  that,  of  differ- 
ent systems  of  faith,  that  is  the  best  which  is  the  truest.  The 
first  of  these  positions  will  hardly  be  disputed,  when  we  reflect, 
that  every  sect  and  modification  of  Christianity  holds  out  the 
happiness  and  misery  of  another  life,  as  depending  chiefly  upon 
the  practice  of  virtue  or  of  vice  in  this  $  and  that  the  distinctions 


AND  OF  TOLERATION, 


371 


of  virtue  and  vice  are  nearly  the  same  in  all.  A  person  who  acts 
under  the  impression  of  these  hopes  and  fears,  though  combined 
with  many  errors  and  superstitions,  is  more  likely  to  advance  both 
the  public  happiness  and  his  own,  than  one  who  is  destitute  of  .alb 
expectation  of  a  future  account.  The  latter  proposition  is  found- 
ed in  the  consideration,  that  the  principal  importance  of  religion 
consists  in  its  influence  upon  the  fate  and  condition  of  a  future 
existence.  This  influenee  belongs  only  to  that  religion  which 
comes  from  God.  A  political  religion  may  be  framed,  which  shall 
embrace  the  purposes,  and  describe  the  duties,  of  political  society 
perfectly  well ;  but  if  it  be  not  delivered  by  God,  what  assurance 
does  it  afford,  that  the  decisions  of  the  divine  judgment  will  have 
any  regard  to  the  rules  which  it  contains  ?  By  a  man  who  acts 
with  a  view  to  a  future  judgment,  the  authority  of  a  religiou  is 
the  first  thing  inquired  after ;  a  religion  which  wants  authority, 
with  him  wants  every  thing.  Since  then  this  authority  apper- 
tains, not  to  the  religion  which  is  most  commodious, — to  the 
religion  which  is  most  sublime  and  efficacious, — to  the  religion 
which  suits  best  with  the  form,  or  seems  most  calculated  to  uphold 
the  power  and  stability  of  civil  government,  but  only  to  that  re- 
ligion which  comes  from  God ;  we  are  justified  in  pronouncing  the 
true  religion,  by  its  very  truth,  and  independently  of  all  consid- 
erations of  tendencies,  aptnesses,  or  any  other  internal  qualities 
whatever,  to  be  universally  the  best. 

From  the  first  proposition  follows  this  inference,  that  when  the 
state  enables  its  subjects  to  learn  some  form  of  Christianity,  by 
distributing  teachers  of  a  religious  system  throughout  the  country, 
and  by  providing  for  the  maintenance  of  these  teachers  at  the 
public  expense ;  that  is,  in  fewer  terms,  when  the  laws  establish 
a  national  religion,  they  exercise  a  power  and  an  interference^ 
which  are  likely,  in  their  general  tendency,  to  promote  the  in- 
terest of  mankind  5  for  even  supposing  the  species  of  Christianity 
which  the  laws  patronize  to  be  erroneous  and  corrupt,  yet  when 
the  option  lies  between  this  religion  and  no  religion  at  all,  which 
would  be  the  consequence  of  leaving  the  people  without  any  public 
means  of  instruction,  or  any  regular  celebration  of  the  offices  of 
Christianity,  our  proposition  teaches  us  that  the  former  alterna- 
tive is  constantly  to  be  preferred. 

But  after  the  right  of  the  magistrate  to  establish  a  particular 
religion  has  been,  upon  this  principle,  admitted  ;  a  doubt  some- 


37&  OP  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

times  presents  itself,  whether  the  religion  which  he  ought  to 
establish  be  that  which  he  himself  professes,  or  that  which  he 
observes  to  prevail  amongst  the  majority  of  the  people.  Now 
when  we  consider  this  question  with  a  view  to  the  formation  of  a 
general  rule  upon  the  subject,  which  view  alone  can  furnish  a 
just  solution  of  the  doubt,  it  must  be  assumed  to  be  an  equal 
chance  whether  of  the  two  religions  contains  more  of  truth,  that 
of  the  magistrate,  or  that  of  the  people.  The  chance  then  that 
is  left  to  truth  being  equal  upon  both  suppositions,  the  remaining 
consideration  will  be,  from  which  arrangement  more  efficacy  can 
he  expected  ; — from  an  order  of  men  appointed  to  teach  the  peo- 
ple their  own  'religion,  or  to  convert  them  to  another.  In  my 
opinion  the  advantage  lies  on  the  side  of  the  former  scheme; 
and  this  opinion,  if  it  be  assented  to,  makes  it  the  duty  of  the 
magistrate,  in  the  choice  of  the  religion  which  he  establishes,  to 
consult  the  faith  of  the  nation  rather  than  his  own. 

The  case  also  of  dissenters  must  be  determined  by  the  princi- 
ples just  now  stated.  Toleration  is  of  two  kinds  ;  the  allowing 
to  dissenters  the  unmolested  profession  and  exercise  of  their  reli- 
gion, but  with  an  exclusion  from  offices  of  trust  and  emolument  in 
the  state,  which  is  a  partial  toleration ;  and  the  admitting  them, 
without  distinction,  to  all  the  civil  privileges  and  capacities  of 
other  citizens,  which  is  a  complete  toleration.  The  expediency 
of  toleration,  and  consequently  the  right  of  every  citizen  to  de- 
mand it,  as  far  as  relates  to  liberty  of  conscience,  and  the  claim 
of  being  protected  in  the  free  and  safe  profession  of  his  religion, 
is  deducible  from  the  second  of  those  propositions,  which  we  have 
delivered  as  the  grounds  of  our  conclusions  upon  the  subject. 
That  proposition  asserts  truth,  and  truth  in  the  abstract,  to  be 
the  supreme  perfection  of  every  religion.  The  advancement,  con- 
sequently, and  discovery  of  truth,  is  that  end  to  which  all  regula- 
tions concerning  religion  ought  principally  to  be  adapted.  Now 
every  species  of  intolerance  which  enjoins  suppression  and  silence; 
and  every  species  of  persecution  which  enforces  such  injunctions, 
is  adverse  to  the  progress  of  truth  ;  forasmuch  as  it  causes  that 
to  be  fixed  by  one  set  of  men,  at  one  time,  which  is  much  better, 
and  with  much  more  probability  of  success,  left  to  the  indepen- 
dent and  progressive  inquiries  of  separate  individuals.  Truth 
results  from  discussion  aud  from  controversy;  is  investigated  by 
the  labours  and  researches  of  private  persons.    Whatever,  there- 


AND  OP  TOLERATION.  373 

fore  prohibits  these,  obstructs  that  industry  and  that  liberty, 
which  it  is  the  common  interest  of  mankind  to  promote.  In  reli- 
gion, as  in  other  subjects,  truth,  if  left  to  itself,  will  almost  al- 
ways obtain  the  ascendency.  If  different  religions  be  professed 
in  the  same  country,  and  the  minds  of  men  remain  unfettered  and 
unawed  by  intimidations  of  law,  that  religion  which  is  founded  in 
maxims  of  reason  and  credibility,  will  gradually  gain  over  the 
other  to  it.  1  do  not  mean  that  men  will  formally  renounce  their 
ancient  religion,  but  that  they  will  adopt  into  it  the  more  ration- 
al doctrines,  the  improvements  and  discoveries  of  the  neighbour- 
ing sect ;  by  which  means  the  worst  religion,  without  the  cere- 
mony of  a  reformation,  will  insensibly  assimilate  itself  to  the 
hetter.  If  popery,  for  instance,  and  protestantism  were  permitted 
to  dwell  quietly  together,  papists  might  not  hecome  protestants 
(for  the  name  is  commonly  the  last  thing  that  is  changed,)*  but 
they  would  become  more  enlightened  and  informed  j  they  would 
by  little  and  little  incorporate  into  their  creed  many  of  the  tenets 
of  protestantism,  as  well  as  imbibe  a  portion  of  its  spirit  and 
moderation. 

The  justice  and  expediency  of  toleration  we  found  primarily  in 
its  conduciveness  to  truth,  and  in  the  superiour  value  of  truth  to 
that  of  any  other  quality  which  a  religion  can  possess  :  this  is  the 
principal  argument;  hut  there  are  some  auxiliary  considerations 
too  important  to  be  omitted.  The  confining  of  the  subject  to  the 
religion  of  the  state,  is  a  needless  violation  of  natural  liberty,  and 
in  an  instance  in  which  constraint  is  always  grievous.  Persecu- 
tion produces  no  sincere  conviction,  nor  any  real  change  of  opin- 
ion ;  on  the  contrary,  it  vitiates  the  public  morals  by  driving  men 
to  prevarication,  and  commonly  ends  in  a  general  though  secret 
infidelity,  by  imposing,  under  the  name  of  revealed  religion,  sys- 
tems of  doctrine  which  men  cannot  believe,  and  dare  not  examine : 
finally,  it  disgraces  the  character,  and  wounds  the  reputation,  of 
Christianity  itself,  by  making  it  the  author  of  oppression,  cruelty, 
and  bloodshed. 

Under  the  idea  of  religious  toleration  I  include  the  toleration 
of  all  books  of  serious  argumentation ;  but  I  deem  it  no  infringe- 

*  Would  we  let  the  name  stand,  we  might  often  attract  men,  without  their 
perceiving  it,  much  nearer  to  ourselves,  than,  if'thev  did  perceive  it,  they  would 
be  willing  to  come. 


3^4(  0F  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

ment  of  religious  liberty  to  restrain  the  circulation  of  ridicule,  in- 
vective, and  mockery,  upon  religious  subjects ;  because  this  spe- 
cies of  writing  applies  solely  to  the  passions,  weakens  the  judg- 
ment, and  contaminates  the  imagination  of  its  readers ;  has  no 
tendency  whatever  to  assist  either  the  investigation  or  the  im- 
pression of  truth  ;  on  the  contrary,  whilst  it  stays  not  to  distinguish 
between  the  authority  of  different  religions,  it  destroys  alike  the 
influence  of  all. 

Concerning  the  admission  of  dissenters  from  the  established 
religion  to  offices  and  employments  iu  the  public  service,  which 
is  necessary  to  render  toleration  complete,  doubts  have  been  enter- 
tained with  some  appearance  of  reason.  It  is  possible  that  such 
religious  opinions  may  be  holden  as  are  utterly  incompatible  with 
the  necessary  functions  of  civil  government;  and  which  opinions 
consequently  disqualify  those  who  maintain  them,  from  exercising 
any  share  in  its  administration,  i'here  have  been  enthusiasts 
who  held  that  Christianity  has  abolished  all  distinction  of  prop- 
erty, and  that  she  enjoins  upon  her  followers  a  community  of 
goods.  With  what  tolerable  propriety  could  one  of  this  sect  be 
appointed  a  judge  or  a  magistrate,  whose  office  it  is  to  decide 
upon  questions  of  private  right,  and  to  protect  men  in  the  exclu- 
sive enjoyment  of  their  property  ?  It  would  be  equally  absurd  to 
intrust  a  military  commaud  to  a  Quaker,  who  believes  it  to  be 
contrary  to  the  gospel  to  take  up  arms.  This  is  possible;  there- 
fore it  cannot  be  laid  down  as  an  universal  truth,  that  religion  is 
not  in  its  nature  a  cause  which  will  justify  exclusion  from  public 
employments.  When  we  examine,  however,  the  sects  of  Chris- 
tianity which  actually  prevail  in  the  world,  we  must  confess  that, 
with  the  single  exception  of  refusing  to  bear  arms,  we  find  no 
tenet  in  any  of  them  which  incapacitates  men  for  the  service  of 
the  state.  It  has  indeed  been  asserted  that  discordancy  of  reli- 
gions, even  supposing  each  religion  to  be  free  from  any  errors 
that  affect  the  safety  or  the  conduct  of  government ;  is  enough  to 
render  men  unfit  to  act  together,  in  public  stations.  But  upon 
what  argument,  or  upon  what  experience  is  this  assertion  found- 
ed ?  I  perceive  no  reason  why  men  of  different  religious  persuasions 
may  not  sit  upon  the  same  bench,  deliberate  in  the  same  council,  or 
fight  in  the  same  ranks,  as  well  as  men  of  various  or  opposite 
opinions  upon  any  controverted  topic  of  natural  philosophy,  his- 
tory, or  ethiqs. 


AND  OF  TOLERATION, 


37° 


There  are  two  cases  in  which  test  laws  are  wont  to  be  applied, 
and  in  which,  if  in  any,  they  may  be  defended.  One  is  where 
two  or  more  religions  are  contending  for  establishment ;  and 
where  there  appears  no  way  of  putting  an  end  to  the  contest  but 
by  giving  to  one  religion  such  a  decided  superiority  in  the  legis- 
lature and  government  of  the  country,  as  to  secure  it  against  dan- 
ger from  any  other.  I  own  that  I  should  assent  to  this  precaution 
with  many  scruples.  If  the  dissenters  from  the  establishment 
become  a  majority  of  the  people,  the  establishment  itself  ought  to 
be  altered  or  qualified.  If  there  exist  amongst  the  different  sects 
of  the  country  such  a  parity  of  numbers,  interest,  and  power,  as 
to  render  the  preference  of  one  sect  to  the  rest,  and  the  choice  of 
that  sect,  a  matter  of  hazardous  success,  and  of  doubtful  election, 
some  plan  similar  to  that  which  is  meditated  in  North-America, 
and  which  we  have  described  in  a  preceding  part  of  the  present 
chapter,  though  encumbered  with  great  difficulties,  may  perhaps 
suit  better  with  this  divided  state  of  public  opinions,  than  any 
constitution  of  a  national  church  whatever.  In  all  other  situations, 
the  establishment  will  be  strong  enough  to  maintain  itself.  How- 
ever, if  a  test  be  applicable  with  justice  upon  this  principle  at  all,  it 
ought  to  be  applied  in  regal  governments  to  the  chief  magistrate 
himself,  whose  power  might  otherwise  overthrow  or  change  the 
established  religion  of  the  country,  in  opposition  to  the  will  and 
sentiments  of  the  people. 

The  second  case  of  exclusion,  and  in  which,  I  think,  the  measure 
is  more  easily  vindicated,  is  that  of  a  country  in  which  some  dis- 
affection to  the  subsisting  government  happens  to  be  connected 
with  certain  religious  distinctions.  The  state  undoubtedly  has  a 
right  to  refuse  its  power  and  its  confidence  to  those  who  seek  its 
destruction.  "Wherefore,  if  the  generality  of  any  religious  sect 
entertain  dispositions  hostile  to  the  constitution,  and  if  govern- 
ment have  no  other  way  of  knowing  its  enemies  than  by  the  reli- 
gion which  they  profess,  the  professors  of  that  religion  may  justly 
be  excluded  from  offices  of  trust  and  authority.  But  even  here  it 
should  be  observed,  that  it  is  not  against  the  religion  that  govern- 
ment shut  its  doors,  but  against  those  political  principles,  which, 
however  independent  they  may  be  of  any  article  of  religious. 
faith,  the  members  of  that  communion  are  found  in  fact  to  hold. 
Nor  would  the  legislator  make  religious  tenets  the  test  of  men's 
inclinations  towards  the  state,  if  he  could  discover  any  other  that 


3^6  OF  RELIGIOUS  ESTABLISHMENTS, 

was  equally  certain  and  notorious.  Thus,  if  the  members  of  the 
Romish  charch,  for  the  most  part,  adhere  to  the  interests,  or 
maintain  the  right  of  a  foreign  pretender  to  the  crown  of  these 
kingdoms  ;  and  if  there  be  no  way  of  distinguishing  those  who 
do  from  those  who  do  not  retain  such  dangerous  prejudices;  gov- 
ernment is  well  warranted  in  fencing  out  the  whole  sect  from  sit- 
uations of  trust  and  power.  But  even  in  this  example,  it  is  not 
to  popery  that  the  laws  object,  but  to  popery  as  the  mark  of 
jacobitism  ;  an  equivocal  indeed  and  fallacious  mark,  but  the  best, 
and  perhaps  the  only  one,  that  can  be  devised.  But  then  it  should 
be  remembered,  that  as  the  connexion  between  popery  and  jacobit- 
ism, which  is  the  sole  cause  of  suspicion,  and  the  sole  justification 
of  those  severe  and  jealous  laws  which  have  been  enacted  against 
the  professors  of  that  religion,  was  accidental  in  its  origin,  so 
probably  it  will  be  temporary  in  its  duration  ;  and  that  these  re- 
strictions ought  not  to  continue  one.  day  longer  than  some  visible 
danger  renders  them  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  public  tran- 
quillity. 

After  all,  it  may  be  asked,  why  should  not  the  legislator  direct 
bis  test  against  the  political  principles  themselves  which  he  wishes 
to  exclude,  rather  than  encounter  them  through  the  medium  of 
religious  tenets,  the  only  crime  and  the  only  danger  of  which  con- 
sist in  their  presumed  alliance  with  the  former  ?  Why,  for  ex- 
ample, should  a  man  be  required  to  renounce  transubstantiation, 
before  he  be  admitted  to  an  office  in  the  state,  when  it  might  seem 
to  be  sufficient  that  he  abjure  the  Pretender  ?  There  are  but  two 
answers  that  can  be  given  to  the  objection  which  this  question 
contaios  :  first,  that  it  is  not  opinions  which  the  laws  fear,  so  much 
as  inclinations;  and  that  political  inclinations  are  not  so  easily 
detected  by  the  affirmation  or  denial  of  any  abstract  proposition 
in  politics,  as  by  the  discovery  of  the  religious  creed  with  which 
they  are  wont  to  be  united  :  secondly,  that  when  men  renounce 
their  religion  they  commonly  quit  all  connexion  with  the  members 
of  the  church  which  they  have  left ;  that  church  no  longer  ex- 
pecting assistance  or  friendship  from  them  ;  whereas  particular 
persons  might  insinuate  themselves  into  offices  of  trust  and  au- 
thority, by  subscribing  political  assertions,  and  yet  retain  their  pre- 
dilection for  the  interest  of  the  religious  sect  to  which  they  con- 
tinue to  belong.  By  which  means  government  would  sometimes 
find,  though  it  could  not  accuse  the  individual,  whom  it  had  received 


OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION,  &c.  %*]*[ 

into  its  service,  of  disaffection  to  the  civil  establishment,  yet  that, 
through  him,  it  had  communicated  the  aid  and  influence  of  a 
powerful  station  to  a  party  who  were  hoslile  to  the  constitution. 
These  answers,  however,  we  propose  rather  than  defend.  The 
measure  certainly  cannot  be  defended  at  all,  except  where  the 
suspected  union  between  certain  obnoxious  principles  in  politics, 
and  certain  tenets  in  religion,  is  nearly  universal ;  in  which  case 
it  makes  little  difference  to  the  subscriber,  whether  the  test  be  re- 
ligious or  political ;  and  the  state  is  somewhat  better  secured  by 
the  one  than  the  other. 

The  result  of  our  examination  of  those  general  tendencies,  by 
which  every  interference  of  civil  government  in  matters  of  religion 
ought  to  be  tried,  is  this :  "  That  a  comprehensive  national  re- 
ligion, guarded  by  a  few  articles  of  peace  and  conformity,  together 
with  a  legal  provision  for  the  clergy  of  that  religion  ;  and  with  a 
complete  toleration  of  all  dissenters  from  the  established  church, 
without  any  other  limitation  or  exception,  than  what  arises  from 
the  conjunction  of  dangerous  political  dispositions  with  certain 
religious  tenets,  appears  to  be,  not  only  the  most  just  and  liberal, 
but  the  wisest  and  safest  system,  which  a  state  can  adopt;  in- 
asmuch as  it  unites  the  several  perfections  which  a  religious 
constitution  ought  to  aim  at : — liberty  of  conscience,  with  means 
of  instruction  ;  the  progress  of  truth,  with  the  peace  of  society  5 
the  right  of  private  judgment,  with  the  care  of  the  public 
safety." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

OF  POPULATION  AND  PROVISION  ;  AND  OF  AGRICULTURE  AND 
COMMERCE,  AS  SUBSERVIENT  THERETO. 

THE  final  view  of  all  rational  politics  is,  to  produce  the 
greatest  quantity  of  happiness  in  a  given  tract  of  country.  The 
riches,  strength,  and  glory  of  nations ;  the. topics  which  history 
celebrates,  and  which  alone  almost  engage  the  praises,  and  pos- 
sess the  admiration  of  mankind,  have  no  value  further  than  as 


3^g  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION* 

(hey  contribute  to  this  end.     When  they  interfere  with  it,  they  are 
evils,  and  not  the  less  real  for  the  splendour  that  surrounds  them. 

Secondly,  although  we  speak  of  communities  as  of  sentient 
beings  ;  although  we  ascribe  to  them  happiness  aud  misery,  de- 
sires, interests,  and  passions,  nothing  really  exists  or  feels,  but 
individuals.  The  happiness  of  a  people  is  made  up  of  the  hap- 
piness of  single  persons;  and  the  quantity  of  happiness  can  only 
be  augmented  by  increasing  the  number  of  the  percipients,  or  the 
pleasure  of  their  perceptions. 

Thirdly,  notwithstanding  that  diversity  of  condition,  especially 
different  degrees  of  plenty,  freedom,  and  security,  greatly  vary 
the  quantity  of  happiness  enjoyed  by  the  same  number  of  indi- 
viduals ;  and  notwithstanding  that  extreme  cases  may  be  found, 
of  human  beings  so  galled  by  the  rigours  of  slavery,  that  the  in- 
crease of  numbers  is  only  the  amplification  of  misery;  yet,  within 
certain  limits,  and  within  those  limits  to  which  civil  life  is  diver, 
sified  under  the  temperate  governments  that  obtain  in  Europe,  it 
may  be  affirmed,  I  think,  with  certainty,  that  the  quantity  of 
happiness  produced  in  any  given  district,  so  far  depends  upon  the 
number  of  inhabitants,  that,  in  comparing  adjoining  periods  in 
the  same  country,  the  collective  happiness  will  be  nearly  in  the 
exact  proportion  of  the  numbers,  that  is,  twice  the  number  of  in- 
habitants will  produce  double  the  quantity  of  happiness ;  in  dis- 
tant periods,  and  different  countries,  under  great  changes  or 
great  dissimilitude  of  civil  condition,  although  the  proportion  of 
enjoyment  may  fall  much  short  of  that  of  the  numbers,  yet  still 
any  considerable  excess  of  numbers  will  usually  carry  with 
it  a  preponderation  of  happiness ;  that,  at  least,  it  may,  and 
ought  to  be  assumed  in  all  political  deliberations,  that  a  larger 
portion  of  happiness  is  enjoyed  amongst  ten  persons,  possessing 
the  means  of  healthy  subsistence,  than  can  be  produced  by  five 
persons  under  every  advantage  of  power,  affluence,  and  luxury. 

From  these  principles  it  follows,  that  the  quantity  of  happiness 
in  a  given  district,  although  it  is  possible  it  may  be  increased,  the 
number  of  inhabitants  remaining  the  same,  is  chiefly  and  most 
naturally  affected  by  alteration  of  the  numbers:  that,  consequent. 
Jy,  the  decay  of  population  is  the  greatest  evil  that  a  state  can 
suffer;  and  the  improvement  of  it  the  object  which  ought,  in  all 
countries,  to  be  aimed  at  in  preference  to  every  other  political 
purpose  whatsoever. 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE,  379 

The  importance  of  population,  and  the  superiority  of  it  to 
every  other  national  advantage,  are  points  necessary  to  be  in- 
culcated, and  lobe  understood;  inasmuch  as  false  estimates,  or 
fantastic  notions  of  national  grandeur,  are  perpetually  drawing 
(he  attention  of  statesmen  and  legislators  from  the  care  of  this, 
which  is  at  all  times,  the  true  and  absolute  interest  of  a  country  : 
for  which  reason,  we  have  stated  these  points  with  unusual  form- 
ality. We  will  confess,  however,  that  a  competition  can  seldom 
arise  between  the  advancement  of  population  and  any  measure  of 
sober  utility;  beeause,  in  the  ordinary  progress  of  human  affairs, 
whatever,  in  any  way,  contributes  to  make  a  people  happier, 
tends  to  render  them  more  numerous. 

In  the  fecundity  of  the  human,  as  of  every  other  species  of  ani- 
mals, nature  has  provided  for  an  indefinite  multiplication.  Man- 
kind have  increased  to  their  present  number  from  a  single  pair  : 
the  offspring  of  early  marriages,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  pro- 
creation, do  more  than  replace  the  parents :  in  countries,  and 
under  circumstances  very  favourable  to  subsistence,  the  popula- 
tion has  been  doubled  in  the  space  of  twenty  years ;  the  havoc 
oecasioned  by  wars,  earthquakes,  famine,  or  pestilence,  is  usually 
repaired  in  a  short  time.  These  indications  sufficiently  demon- 
strate the  tendency  of  nature,  in  the  human  species,  to  a  continual 
increase  of  its  numbers.  It  becomes  therefore  a  question  that 
may  reasonably  be  propounded,  what  are  the  (muses  which  con- 
fine or  check  the  natural  progress  of  this  multiplication  ?  And 
the  answer  which  first  presents  itself  to  the  thoughts  of  the  in- 
quirer is,  that  the  population  of  a  country  must  stop,  when  the 
country  can  maintain  no  more,  that  is,  when  the  inhabitants  are 
already  so  numerous  as  to  exhaust  ail  the  provision  which  the 
soil  can  be  made  to  produce.  This,  however,  though  an  insuper- 
able bar,  will  seldom  be  found  to  be  that  which  actually  checks 
the  progress  of  population  in  any  country  of  the  world;  because 
the  number  of  the  people  have  seldom,  in  any  country,  arrived  at 
this  limit,  or  even  approached  to  it.  The  fertility  of  the  ground,  in 
temperate  regions,  is  capable  of  being  improved  by  cultivation  to 
an  extent  which  is  unknown  :  much,  however,  beyond  the  state 
of  improvement  in  any  country  in  Europe.  In  our  own,  which 
holds  almost  the  first  place  in  the  knowledge  and  encouragement 
of  agriculture,  let  it  only  be  supposed  that  every  field  in  England. 
®f  the  same  original  quality  with  those  in  the  neighbourhood  of 


380  OP  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

the  metropolis,  and  consequently  capable  of  the  same  fertility, 
were  by  a  like  management  made  to  yield  a»i  equal  produce  ;  and 
it  may  be  asserted,  I  believe,  with  truth,  that  the  quantity  of 
human  provision  raised  in  the  island,  would  be  increased  five 
fold.  The  two  principles,  therefore,  upon  which  population  seems 
primarily  to  depend,  the  fecundity  of  tlie  species,  and  the  capacity 
of  the  soil,  would  in  most,  perhaps  in  all  countries,  enable  it  to 
proceed  much  further  than  it  has  yet  advanced.  The  number  of 
marriageable  women,  who,  in  each  country,  remain  unmarried, 
afford  a  computation  how  much  the  agency  of  nature,  in  the  dif- 
fusion of  human  life  is  cramped  and  contracted  ;  and  the  quantity 
of  waste,  neglected,  or  mismanaged  surface, — together  with  a 
comparison,  like  the  preceding,  of  the  crops  raised  from  the  soil 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  populous  cities,  and  under  a  perfect  state 
of  cultivation,  with  those  which  lands  of  equal  or  superiour  quality 
yield  in  different  situations, — will  shew  in  what  proportion  the 
indigenous  productions  of  the  earth  are  capable  of  being  further 
augmented. 

The  fundamental  proposition  upon  the  subject  of  population, 
which  must  guide  every  endeavour  to  improve  it,  and  from  which 
every  conclusion  concerning  it  may  be  deduced,  is  this  :  "  Wbere- 
ever  the  commerce  between  the  sexes  is  regulated  by  marriage, 
and  a  provision  for  that  mode  of  subsistence,  to  which  each  class 
of  the  community  is  accustomed,  can  be  procured  with  ease  and 
certainty,  there  the  number  of  the  people  will  increase;  and  the 
rapidity,  as  well  as  the  extent  of  the  increase,  will  be  proportion- 
ed to  the  degree  in  which  these  causes  exist." 

This  proposition  we  will  draw  out  into  the  several  principles 
which  it  contains. 

I.  First,  the  proposition  asserts  the  "  necessity  of  confining  the 
intercourse  of  the  sexes  to  the  marriage  union."  It  is  only  in  the 
marriage  union  that  this  intercourse  is  sufficiently  prolific.  Be- 
side which,  family  establishments  alone  are  fitted  to  perpetuate  a 
succession  of  generations.  The  offspring  of  a  vague  and  promis- 
cuous concubinage  are  not  only  few,  and  liable  to  perish  by  neg- 
lect, but  are  seldom  prepared  for  or  introduced  into  situations 
suited  to  the  raising  of  families  of  their  own.  Hence  the  advan- 
tages of  marriage.  Now  nature,  in  the  constitution  of  the  sexes, 
has  provided  a  stimulus  which  will  infallibly  secure  the  frequency 
of  marriages,  with  all  their  beneficial  effects  upon  the  state  of 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE. 


381 


population,  provided  the  male  part  of  the  species  be  prohibited 
from  irregular  gratifications.  This  impulse,  which  is  sufficient  to 
surmount  almost  every  impediment  to  marriage,  will  operate  in 
proportion  to  the  difficulty,  expense,  danger,  or  infamy,  (he  sense 
of  guilt,  or  the  fear  of  punishment,  which  attends  licentious  in- 
dulgences. Wherefore,  in  countries  in  which  subsistence  is  be- 
come scarce,  it  behoves  the  state  to  watch  over  the  public  morals 
with  increased  solicitude:  for  nothing  but  the  instinct  of  nature, 
under  the  restraint  of  chastity,  will  induce  men  to  undertake  the 
labour,  or  consent  to  the  sacrifice  of  personal  liberty  and  indul- 
gence, which  the  support  of  a  family,  in  such  circumstances, 
requires. 

II.  The  second  requisite  which  our  proposition  states,  as  neces- 
sary to  the  success  of  population,  is,  '"  The  ease  and  certainty 
with  which  a  provision  can  be  procured  for  that  mode  of  subsis- 
tence to  which  each  class  of  the  community  is  accustomed."    It  is 
not  enough  that  men's  natural  wants  be  supplied,  that  a  provision 
adequate  to  the  real  exigencies  of  human   life   be   attainable  : 
habitual  superfluities  become  actual  wants;  opinion  and  fashion 
convert  articles  of  ornament  and  luxury  into  necessaries  of  life. 
And  it  must  not  be  expected  from  men  in  general,  at  least  in  the 
present  relaxed  state  of  morals  and  discipline,  that  they  will 
enter  into  marriages  which  degrade  their  condition,  reduce  their 
mode  of  living,  deprive  them  of  the  accommodations  to  which  they 
have  been  accustomed,  or  even  of  those  ornaments  or  appendages 
of  rank  and  station,  which  they   have  been  taught  to   regard  as 
belonging  to  their  birth,  or  class,  or  profession,  or  place  in  society 
The  same  consideration,  namely,   a  view  to   their  accustomed 
mode  of  life,  which  is  so  apparent  in  the  superiour  orders  of  the 
people,  has  no  less  influence  upon  those  ranks  which  compose  the 
mass  of  the  community.     The  kind  and  quality    of  food  and 
liquor,  the  species  of  habitation,  furniture,  and  clothing,  to  which 
the  common  people  of  each  country  are  habituated,  must  be  at- 
tainable with  ease  and  certainty   before  marriages  will  be  suffi- 
ciently early  and  general  to  carry  the  progress  of  population  to 
its  just  extent.     It  is  in  vain  to  allege,   that  a  more  simple  diet, 
ruder  habitations,  or  coarser  apparel,   would  be  sufficient  for  the 
purposes  of  life  and  health,  or  even  of  physical  ease  and  pleasure. 
Men  will  not  marry  with   this   encouragement.     For  instance, 
when  the  common  people  of  a  country  arc  accustomed  to  cat  a 


g§3  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

large  proportion  of  animal  food,  to  drink  wine,  spirits,  or  beer, 
to  wear  shoes  and  stockings,  to  dwell  in  si  one  houses,  they  will 
not  marry  to  live  in  clay  cottages,  upon  roots  and  milk,  with  no 
other  clothing  than  skins,  or  what  is  necessary  to  defend  the 
trunk  of  the  body  from  the  effects  of  cold  ;  although  these  last 
may  be  all  that  the  sustentation  of  life  and  health  requires,  or 
that  even  contribute  much  to  animal  comfort  and  enjoyment. 

The  ease,  then,  and  certainty,  with  which  the  means  can  be 
procured,  not  barely  of  subsistence,  but  of  that  mode  of  subsisting 
which  custom  hath  in  each  country  established,  form  the  point 
npon  which  the  state  and  progress  of  population  chiefly  depend. 
Now,  there  are  three  causes  which  evidently  regulate  this  point: 
the  mode  itself  of  subsisting  which  prevails  in  the  country;  the 
quantity  of  provision  suited  to  that  mode  of  subsistence,  which  is 
either  raised  in  the  country,  or  imported  into  it ;  and,  lastly,  the 
distribution  of  that  provision. 

These  three  causes  merit  distinct  considerations, 
I.  The  mode  of  living  which  actually  obtains  in  a  country.  In 
China,  where  the  inhabitants  frequent  the  seashore,  or  the  banks 
of  large  rivers,  and  subsist  in  a  great  measure  upon  fish,  the  popu- 
lation is  described  to  be  excessive.  This  peculiarity  arises,  not 
probably  from  any  civil  advantages,  any  care  or  policy,  any  par- 
ticular constitution,  or  superiour  wisdom  of  government ;  but 
simply  from  hence,  that  the  species  of  food  to  which  custom  hath 
reconciled  the  desires  and  inclinations  of  the  inhabitants,  is  that 
which,  of  all  others,  is  procured  in  the  greatest  abundance,  with 
the  most  ease,  and  stands  in  need  of  the  least  preparation.  The 
natives  of  Indostan  being  confined,  by  the  laws  of  their  religion, 
to  the  use  of  vegetable  food,  and  requiring  little  except  rice, 
which  the  country  produces  in  plentiful  crops  ;  and  food,  in  warm 
climates,  composing  the  only  want  of  life;  these  countries  are 
populous,  under  all  the  injuries  of  a  despotic,  and  the  agitations 
of  an  unsettled  government.  If  any  revolution,  or  what  would  be 
called  perhaps  refinement  of  manners,  should  generate  in  these 
people  a  taste  for  the  flesh  of  animals,  similar  to  what  prevails 
amongst  the  Arabian  hordes;  should  introduce  flocks  and  herds 
into  grounds  which  are  now  covered  with  corn  ;  should  teach 
them  to  account  a  certain  portion  of  this  speeies  of  food  amongst 
the  necessaries  of  life;  the  population,  from  this  single  change, 
would  suffer  in  a  few  years  a  great  diminution :  and  this  diminu- 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  383 

•lion  would  follow,  in  spite  of  every  effort  of  the  laws,  or  even  of 
any  improvement  that  might  take  place  in  their  civil  condition. 
In  Ireland,  the  simplicity  of  living  alone  maintains  a  considera- 
ble degree  of  population,  under  great  defects  of  police,  industry, 
and  commerce. 

Under  this  head,  and  from  a  view  of  these  considerations,  may 
be  understood  the  true  evil  and  proper  danger  of  luxury. 

Luxury,  as  it  supplies  employment  and  promotes  industry, 
assists  population.  But  then  there  is  another  consequence  at- 
tending it,  which  counteracts  and  often  overbalances  these  advan- 
tages. When,  by  introducing  more  superfluities  into  general 
reception,  luxury  has  rendered  the  usual  accommodations  of  life 
more  expensive,  artificial,  and  elaborate,  the  difficulty  of  main- 
taining a  family,  conformably  with  the  established  mode  of  living, 
becomes  greater,  and  what  each  man  has  to  spare  from  his  per- 
sonal consumption  proportionally  less  :  the  effect  of  which  is, 
that  marriages  grow  less  frequent,  agreeably  to  the  maxim  above 
laid  down,  and  which  must  be  remembered  as  the  foundation  of 
all  our  reasoning  upon  the  subject,  that  men  will  not  marry  to 
sink  their  place  or  condition  in  society,  or  to  forego  those  indul- 
gences, which  their  own  habits,  or  what  they  observe  amongst 
their  equals,  have  rendered  necessary  to  their  satisfaction.  This 
principle  is  applicable  to  every  article  of  diet  and  dress,  to  houses, 
furniture,  attendance  ;  and  this  effect  will  be  felt  in  every  class 
of  the  community.  For  instance,  the  custom  of  wearing  broad- 
cloth and  fine  linen  repays  the  shepherd  and  flax-grower,  feeds 
the  manufacturer,  enriches  the  merchant,  gives  not  only  support 
but  existence  to  multitudes , of  families  :  hitherto,  therefore,  the 
effects  are  beneficial ;  and  were  these  the  only  effects,  such  ele- 
gancies, or,  if  you  please  to  call  them  so,  such  luxuries,  could  not 
be  too  universal.  But  here  follows  the  mischief:  when  once 
fashion  hath  annexed  the  use  of  these  articles  of  dress  to  any 
certain  class,  the  middling  ranks,  for  example,  of  the  community, 
each  individual  of  that  rank  finds  them  to  be  necessaries  of  life; 
that  is,  finds  himself  obliged  to  comply  with  the  example  of  his 
equals,  and  to  maintain  that  appearance  which  the  custom  of 
society  requires.  This  obligation  creates  such  a  demand  upon 
his  income,  and  withal  adds  so  much  to  the  cost  and  burthen  of 
a  family,  as  to  put  it  out  of  his  power  to  marry,  with  the  pros- 
pect of  continuing  his  habits,  or  of  maintaining  his  place  and 


381  0F  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

situation  in  the  world.  We  see,  in  this  description,  the  cause 
which  induces  men  to  waste  their  lives  in  a  barren  celibacy ;  and 
this  cause,  which  impairs  the  very  source  of  population,  is  justly 
placed  to  the  account  of  luxury. 

It  appears,  then,  that  luxury,  considered  with  a  view  to  popu- 
lation, acts  by  two  opposite  effects ;  and  it  seems  probable  that 
there  exists  a  point  in  the  scale,  to  which  luxury  may  ascend,  or 
to  which  the  wants  of  mankind  may  be  multiplied  with  advan- 
tage to  the  community,  and  beyond  which  the  prejudicial  conse- 
quences begin  to  preponderate.  The  determination  of  this  point, 
though  it  assume  the  form  of  an  arithmetical  problem,  depends 
upon  circumstances  too  numerous,  intricate,  and  undefined,  to 
admit  of  a  precise  solution.  However,  from  what  has  been  ob- 
served concerning  the  tendency  of  luxury  to  diminish  marriages, 
in  which  tendency  the  evil  of  it  resides,  the  followiug  general  con- 
clusions may  be  established. 

1st.  That,  of  different  kinds  of  luxury,  those  are  the  most  in- 
nocent which  afford  employment  to  the  greatest  number  of  artists 
and  manufacturers  ;  or  those,  in  other  words,  in  which  the  price 
of  the  work  bears  the  greatest  proportion  to  that  of  the  raw  ma- 
terial. Thus,  luxury  in  dress  or  furniture  is  universally  prefera- 
ble to  luxury  in  eating,  because  the  articles  which  constitute  the 
one,  are  more  the  production  of  human  art  and  industry,  than 
those  which  supply  the  other. 

2(\\j.  That  it  is  the  diffusion,  rather  than  the  degree  of  luxury, 
which  is  to  be  dreaded  as  a  national  evil.  The  mischief  of  luxu- 
ry consists,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  obstruction  which  it  forms 
to  marriage.  Now,  it  is  only  a  small  part  of  the  people,  that  the 
higher  ranks  in  any  country  compose ;  for  which  reason  the  fa- 
cility or  the  difficulty  of  supporting  the  expense  of  their  station, 
and  the  consequent  increase  or  diminution  of  marriages  among 
them,  will  influence  the  state  of  population  but  little.  So  long  as 
the  prevalency  of  luxury  is  confined  to  a  few  of  elevated  rank, 
much  of  the  benefit  is  felt  and  little  of  the  inconveniency.  But 
when  the  imitation  of  the  same  manners  descends,  as  it  always 
will  do,  into  the  mass  of  the  people  ;  when  it  advances  the  requi 
sites  of  living  beyond  what  it  adds  to  men's  abilities  to  purchase 
them,  then  it  is  that  luxury  checks  the  formation  of  families,  in  a 
degree  that  ought  to  alarm  the  public  fears. 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  ggg 

Sdly.  That  the  condition  most  favourable  to  population  is  that 
©f  a  laborious,  frugal  people,  ministering  to  the  demands  of  an 
opulent,  luxurious  nation  ;  because  this  situation,  whilst  it  leaves 
them  every  advantage  of  luxury,  exempts  them  from  the  evils 
which  naturally  accompany  its  admission  into  any  country. 

II.  Next  to  the  mode  of  living,  we  are  to  consider  "  the  quan- 
tity of  provision  suited  to  that,  mode,  which  is  either  raised  in  the 
country,  or  imported  into  it  :"  for  this  is  the  order  in  which  we 
assigned  the  causes  of  population,  and  undertook  to  treat  of  them. 
Now,  if  we  measure  the  quantity  of  provision  by  the  number  of 
human  bodies  it  will  support  in  due  health  and  vigour,  this  quan- 
tity, the  extent  and  quality  of  the  soil  from  which  it  is  raised  be- 
ing given,  will  depend  greatly  upon  the  kind.  For  instance,  a 
piece  of  ground  capable  of  supplying  animal  food  sufficient  for 
the  subsistence  of  ten  persons,  would  sustain,  at  least,  the  double 
of  that  number  with  grain,  roots,  and  milk.  The  first  resource  of 
savage  life  is  in  the  flesh  of  wild  animals  ;  hence  the  numbers 
amongst  savage  nations,  compared  with  the  tract  of  country 
which  they  occupy,  are  universally  small  ;  because  this  species 
of  provision  is,  of  all  others,  supplied  in  the  slenderest  proportion. 
The  next  step  was  the  invention  of  pasturage,  or  the  rearing  of 
flocks  and  herds  of  tame  animals  :  this  alteration  added  to  the 
stock  of  provision  much.  But  (he  last  and  principal  improve- 
ment was  to  follow  ;  namely,  tillage,  or  the  artificial  production 
of  corn,  esculent  plants,  and  roots.  This  discovery,  whilst  it 
changed  the  quality  of  human  food,  augmented  the  quantity  in  a 
vast  proportion.  So  far  as  the  state  of  population  is  governed 
and  limited  by  the  quantity  of  provision,  perhaps  there  is  no  sin- 
gle cause  that  affects  it  so  powerfully,  as  the  kind  and  quality  of 
food  which  chance  or  usage  hath  introduced  into  a  country.  In 
England,  notwithstanding  the  produce  of  the  soil  has  been,  of 
late,  considerably  increased,  by  the  enclosure  of  wastes,  and  the 
adoption,  in  many  places,  of  a  more  successful  husbandry,  yet 
we  do  not  observe  a  corresponding  addition  to  the  number  of  in- 
habitants ;  the  reason  of  which  appears  to  me  to  be  the  more 
general  consumption  of  animal  food  amongst  us.  Many  ranks  of 
people  whose  ordinary  diet  was,  in  the  last  century,  prepared  al- 
most entirely  from  milk,  roots,  and  vegetables,  now  require  every 
day  a  considerable  portion  of  the  flesh  of  animals.  Hence  a  great 
part  of  the  richest  lands  of  the  country  are  converted  to  pastur- 
49 


ggg  OP  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

age.  Much  also  of  the  bread-corn,  which  went  directly  to  the 
nourishment  of  human  bodies,  now  only  contributes  to  it  by  fatten- 
ing the  flesh  of  sheep  and  oxen.  The  mass  and  volume  of  pro- 
visions are  hereby  diminished  ;  and  what  is  gained  in  the  melio- 
ration of  the  soil,  is  lost  in  the  quality  of  the  produce.  This  con- 
sideration teaches  us,  that  tillage,  as  an  object  of  national  care 
and  encouragement,  is  universally  preferable  to  pasturage  ;  be- 
cause the  kind  of  provision  which  it  yields  goes  much  further  in 
the  sustentation  of  human  life.  Tillage  is  also  recommended  by 
this  additional  advantage,  that  it  affords  employment  to  a  much 
more  numerous  peasantry.  Indeed,  pasturage  seems  to  be  the  art 
of  a  nation,  either  imperfectly  civilized,  as  are  many  of  the  tribes 
which  cultivate  it  in  the  internal  parts  of  Asia  ;  or  of  a  nation, 
like  Spain,  declining  from  its  summit  by  luxury  and  inactivity. 

The  kind  and  quality  of  provision,  together  with  the  extent 
and  capacity  of  the  soil  from  which  it  is  raised,  being  the  same ; 
the  quantity  procured  will  principally  depend  upon  two  circum- 
stances, the  ability  of  the  occupier,  and  the  encouragement  which 
he  receives.  The  greatest  misfortune  of  a  country  is  an  indigent 
tenantry.  Whatever  be  the  native  advantages  of  the  soil,  or  even 
the  skill  and  industry  of  the  occupier,  the  want  of  a  sufficient 
eapital  confines  every  plan,  as  well  as  cripples  and  weakens  every 
operation  of  husbandry.  This  evil  is  felt,  where  agriculture  is 
accounted  a  servile  or  mean  employment  ;  where  farms  are  ex- 
tremely subdivided,  and  badly  furnished  with  habitations  ;  where 
leases  are  unknown,  or  are  of  short  or  precarious  duration.  With 
respect  to  the  encouragement  of  husbandry  ;  in  this,  as  in  every 
other  employment,  the  true  reward  of  industry  is  in  the  price  and- 
sale  of  the  produce.  The  exclusive  right  to  the  produce  is  the 
only  incitement  which  aets  constantly  and  universally  ;  the  only 
spring  which  keeps  human  labour  in  motion.  All  therefore  that 
the  laws  can  do,  is  to  secure  this  right  to  the  occupier  of  the 
ground,  that  is,  to  constitute  such  a  system  of  tenure,  that  the  full 
and  entire  advantage  of  every  improvement  go  to  the  benefit  of 
the  improver  ;  that  every  man  work  for  himself,  and  not  for  an- 
other ;  and  that  no  one  share  in  the  profit  who  does  not  assist  in 
the  production.  By  the  occupier  I  here  mean,  not  so  much  the 
person  who  performs  the  work,  as  him  who  procures  the  labour 
and  directs  the  management :  and  I  consider  the  whole  profit  as 
received  by  the  occupier,  when  the  occupier  is  benefitted  by  the 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  ggy 

whole  value  of  what  is  produced,  which  is  (he  case  with  the  tenant 
who  pays  a  fixed  rent  for  the  use  of  land,  no  less  than  with  the 
proprietor  who  holds  it  as  his  own.  The  one  has  the  same  inter- 
est in  the  produce,  and  in  the  advantage  of  every  improvement, 
as  the  other.  Likewise  the  proprietor,  though  he  grant  out  his 
estate  to  farm,  may  be  considered  as  the  occupier,  in  so  much  as 
he  regulates  the  occupation  by  the  choice,  superintendency,  and 
encouragement  of  his  tenants,  by  the  disposition  of  his  lands,  by 
erecting  buildiugs,  providing  accommodations,  by  prescribing  con- 
ditions, or  supplying  implements  and  materials  of  improvement  j 
and  is  entitled,  by  the  rule  of  public  expediency  abovemeniioned, 
to  receive,  in  the  advance  of  his  rent,  a  share  of  the  benefit  which 
arises  from  the  increased  produce  of  his  estate.  The  violation  of 
this  fundamental  maxim  of  agrarian  policy  constiiiit.es  the  chief 
objection  to  the  holding  of  lands  by  the  state,  by  the  king,  by 
corporate  bodies,  by  private  persons  in  right  of  their  offices  or 
benefices.  The  inconveniency  to  the  publie  arises  not  so  much 
from  the  unalienable  quality  of  lands  thus  bolden  in  perpetuity, 
as  from  hence,  that  proprietors  of  this  description  seldom  contri- 
bute much  either  of  attention  or  expense  to  the  cultivation  of 
their  estates,  yet  claim,  by  the  rent,  a  share  in  the  profit  of  every 
improvement  that  is  made  upon  them.  This  complaint  can  only 
he  obviated  by  "  long  leases  at  a  fixed  rent,"  which  convey  a 
large  portion  of  the  interest  to  those  who  actually  conduct  the 
cultivation.  The  same  objection  is  applicable  to  the  holding  of 
lands  by  foreign  proprietors,  and  in  some  degree  to  estates  of  too 
great  extent  being  placed  in  the  same  hands. 

III.  Beside  the  production  of  provision,  there  remains  to  be 
considered  the  distribution.— It  is  in  vain  that  provisions 
abound  in  the  country,  unless  I  be  able  to  obtain  a  share  of  them. 
This  reflection  belongs  to  every  individual.  The  plenty  of  pro- 
vision produced,  the  quantity  of  the  public  stock,  affords  subsis- 
tence to  individuals,  and  encouragement  tp  the  formation  of  fami- 
lies, only  in  proportion  as  it  is  distributed,  that  is,  in  proportion 
as  these  individuals  are  allowed  to  draw  from  it  a  supply  of  their 
own  wants.  The  distribution,  therefore,  becomes  of  equal  conse- 
quence to  population  with  the  production.  Now,  there  is  but  one 
principle  of  distribution  that  can  ever  become  universal,  namely, 
the  principle  of  "  exchange  ;"  or,  in  other  words,  that  every  man 
have  something  to  give  in  return  for  what  he  wants. — Bounty. 


ggg  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

however  it  may  come  in  aid  of  another  principle,  however  it  may 
occasionally  qualify  the  rigour,  or  supply  the  imperfection  of  an 
established  rule  of  distribution,  can  never  itself  become  that  rule 
or  principle;  because  men  will  not  work  to  give  the  produce  of 
their  labour  away.     Moreover,  the  only  equivnleuts  that  ean  be 
offered  in  exchange  for  provision  are  power  aud  labour.     All  prop- 
erty is  power.     What  we  call  property  in  land  is  the  power  to 
use  it,  and  to  exclude  others  from  the  use.     Money  is  the  repre- 
sentative of  power^  because  it  is  convertible  into  power:  the  value 
of  it  consists  in  its  faculty  of  procuring  power  over  things  and 
persons.     But  pover  which  results  from  civil  conventions,  and  of 
this  kind  is  what  we  call  a  man's  fortune  or  estate,  is  necessarily 
confined  to  a  few,  and  is  withal  soon  exhausted  :  whereas  the  ca- 
pacity of  labour  is  every  man's  natural  possession,  and  composes 
a  constant  aud  renewing  fund.     The  hire,  therefore,  or  produce 
of  personal  industry,  is  that  which  the  bulk  of  every  community 
must  bring  to  market,  in  exchange  for  the  means  of  subsistence; 
in  other  words,  employment  must,  in  every  country,  be  the  medium 
of  distribution,  and  the  source   of  supply  to  indviduals.     But 
when  we  consider  the  production  and  distribution  of  provision,  as 
distinct  from,  and  independent  of,  each  other;  when,  supposing 
the  same  quantity  to  be  produced,  we  inquire  in  what  way,  orac* 
cording  to  what  rule,  it  may  be  distributed,  we  are  led  to  a  con- 
ception of  the  subject  not  at  all  agreeable  to  truth  and  reality; 
for,  in  truth  and  realitv,  though   provision  must  be  produced  be- 
fore it  he  distributed,  yet  the  production  depends,  in  a  great  meas- 
ure, upon  the  distribution.     The  quantity  of  provision  raised  out 
of  the  ground,  so  far  as  the  raising  of  it  requires  humau  art  or 
labour,  will  evidently  be  regulated  by  the  demand  ;  the  demand, 
or,  in  other  words,  the  price  and  sale,  being  that  which  alone  re- 
wards the  care,  or  excites  the  diligence  of  the  husbandman.     But 
the  sale  of  provision  depends  upon  the  number,  not  of  those  who 
want,  but  of  those  who  have  something  to  offer  in  return  for  what 
they  want ;  not   of  those  who  would  consume,  but  of  those  who 
can  buy  ;  that  is,  upon  the  number  of  those  who  have  the  fruits  of 
some  other  kind  of  industry  to  tender  in  exchange  for  what  they 
stand  in  need  of  from  the  production  of  the  soil. 

We  see,  therefore,  the  connexion  between  population  and  em- 
ployment. Employment  affects  population  "  directly,"  as  it 
affords  the  only  medium  of  distribution  by  which  individuals  can. 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  ggQ 

obtain  from  the  common  stoek  a  supply  for  the  wants  of  their 
families  :  it  affects  population  "  indirectly,"  as  it  augments  the 
stock  itself  of  provision,  in  the  only  way  by  which  the  production 
of  it  can  be  effectually  encouraged,  by  furnishing  purchasers. 
No  man  can  purchase  without  an  equivalent ;  and  that  equivalent, 
by  the  generality  of  the  people,  must  in  every  country  be  derived 
from  employment. 

And  upon  this  basis  is  founded  the  public  benefit  of  trade,  that 
is  to  say,  its  subserviency  to  population,  in  which  its  only  veal 
utility  consists.  Of  that  industry,  and  of  those  arts  and  branches 
of  trade,  which  are  employed  in  the  production,  conveyance,  and 
preparation  of  any  principal  species  of  human  food,  as  of  the 
business  of  the  husbandman,  the  butcher,  baker,  brewer,  corn-mer- 
chant, &e.  we  acknowledge  the  necessity:  likewise  of  those 
manufactures  which  furnish  us  with  warm  clothing,  convenient 
habitations,  domestic  utensils,  as  of  the  weaver,  tailor,  smith, 
carpenter,  &c.  we  perceive  (in  climates,  however,  like  ours,  re- 
moved at  a  distance  from  the  sun)  the  conduciveness  to  popula- 
tion, by  their  rendering  human  life  more  healthy,  vigorous,  and 
comfortable.  But  not  one  half  of  the  occupations  which  compose 
the  trade  of  Europe,  fall  within  either  of  these  descriptions. 
Perhaps  two  thirds  of  the  manufacturers  in  England  are  employed 
upon  articles  of  confessed  luxury,  ornament,  or  splendour  ;  in  the 
superfluous  embellishment  of  some  articles  which  are  useful  in 
their  kind,  or  upon  others  which  have  no  conceivable  use  or  value, 
but  what  is  founded  in  caprice  or  fashion.  What  can  be  less  ne- 
cessary, or  less  connected  with  the  sustentation  of  human  life, 
than  the  whole  produce  of  the  silk,  lace,  and  plate  manufactory  ? 
yet  what  multitudes  labour  in  the  different  branches  of  these  arts  ! 
What  can  be  imagined  more  capricious  than  the  fondness  for  to- 
bacco and  snuff?  yet  how  many  various  occupations,  and  how 
many  thousands  in  each,  are  set  at  work  in  administering  to  this 
frivolous  gratification  !  Concerning  trades  of  this  kind,  (and  this 
kind  comprehends  more  than  half  of  the  trades  that  are  exercised,) 
it  may  fairly  be  asked,  w  How,  since  they  add  nothing  to  the 
stoek  of  provision,  do  they  tend  to  increase  the  number  of  the 
people  ?"  We  are  taught  to  say  of  trade,  "  that  it  maintains 
multitudes ;''  but  by  what  means  does  it  maintain  them,  when  it 
produces  nothing  upon  which  the  support  of  human  life  depends  ? 
—In  like  manner  with  respect  to  foreign  commerce  :  of  that  mer- 


3Q0  0P  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

chandize  which  brings  the  necessaries  of  life  into  a  country, 
which  imports,  for  example,  corn,  or  cattle,  or  cloth,  or  fuel,  we 
allow  the  tendency  to  advance  population,  because  it  increases 
the  stock  of  provision  by  which  the  people  are  subsisted.  But 
this  effect  of  foreign  commerce  is  so  little  seen  in  our  own  country, 
that,  I  believe,  it  may  be  affirmed  of  Great  Britain,  what  Bishop 
Berkley  said  of  a  neighbouring  island,  that,  if  it  were  encompass- 
ed with  a  wall  of  brass  fifty  cubits  high,  the  country  might  main- 
tain the  same  number  of  inhabitants  that  find  subsistence  in  it  at 
present ;  and  that  every  necessary,  and  even  every  real  comfort 
and  accommodation  of  human  life  migiit  be  supplied  in  as  great 
abundance  as  they  now  are.  Here,  therefore,  as  before,  we  may 
fairly  ask,  by  what  operation  it  is,  that  foreign  commerce,  which 
brings  into  the  country  no  one  article  of  human  subsistence,  pro- 
motes the  multiplication  of  human  life  ? 

The  answer  of  this  inquiry  will  be  contained  in  the  diseussion 
of  another,  viz : 

Since  the  soil  will  maintain  many  more  than  it  can  employ, 
what  must  he  done,  supposing  the  country  to  be  full,  with  the  re- 
mainder of  the  inhabitants  ?  They  who,  by  the  rules  of  parti- 
tion, (and  some  such  must  be  established  in  every  country,)  are 
entitled  to  the  land  ;  and  they  who,  by  their  labour  upon  the  soil, 
acquire  a  right  in  its  produce,  will  not  part  with  their  property 
for  nothing;  or,  rather,  they  will  no  longer  raise  from  the  soil 
what  they  can  neither  use  themselves,  nor  exchange  for  what  they 
want.  Or,  lastly,  if  these  were  willing  to  distribute  what  they 
could  spare  of  the  provision  which  the  ground  yielded,  to  others 
who  had  no  share  or  concern  in  the  properly  or  cultivation  of  it, 
yet  still  the  most  enormous  mischiefs  would  ensue  from  great 
numbers  remaining  unemployed.  The  idleness  of  one  half  of  the 
community  would  overwhelm  the  whole  with  confusion  and  dis- 
order. One  only  way  presents  itself  of  removing  the  difficulty 
which  this  question  states,  and  which  is  simply  this  ;  that  they, 
whose  work  is  not  wanted,  nor  can  be  employed  in  the  raising  of 
provision  out  of  the  ground,  convert  their  hands  and  ingenuity  to 
the  fabrication  of  articles  which  may  gratify  and  requite  those 
who  are  so  employed,  or  who,  by  the  division  of  lands  in  the 
country,  are  entitled  to  the  exclusive  possession  of  certain  parts 
of  them.  By  this  contrivance  all  things  proceed  well.  The  oc- 
cupier of  the  ground  raises  from  it  the   utmost  that  he  cair 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  39  £ 

procure,  because  he  is  repaid  for  what  he  can  spare  by  something 
else  which  he  wants,  or  with  which  he  is  pleased :  the  artist  or 
manufacturer,  though  he  have  neither  any  property  in  the  soil,  nor 
any  concern  in  its  cultivation,  is  regularly  supplied  with  the  pro- 
duce, because  he  gives,  in  exchange  for  what  he  stands  in  need  of, 
something  upon  which  the  receiver  places  an  equal  value :  and 
the  community  is  kept  quiet,  while  both  sides  are  eugaged  iu  their 
respective  occupations. 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  business  of  one  half  of  mankind  is,  to 
set  the  other  half  at  work;  that  is,  to  provide  articles,  which,  by 
tempting  the  desires,  may  stimulate  the  industry,  and  call  forth 
the  activity  of  those,  upon  the  exertion  of,  whose  industry,  and 
the  application  of  whose  faculties,  the  production  of  human  pro- 
vision depends.  A  certain  portion  only  of  human  labour  is,  or 
can  be,  productive ;  the  rest  is  instrumental; — both  equally  ne- 
eessary,  though  the  one  have  no  other  object  than  to  excite  the 
other.  It  appears  also,  that  it  signifies  nothing,  as  to  the  main 
purpose  of  trade,  how  superfluous  the  articles  which  it  furnishes 
are ;  whether  the  want  of  them  be  real  or  imaginary ;  whether  it 
be  founded  iu  nature  or  in  opinion,  in  fashion,  habit  or  emula- 
tion ;  it  is  enough  that  they  be  actually  desired  and  sought  after. 
Flourishing  cities  are  raised  and  supported  by  trading  in  tobacco  : 
populous  towns  subsist  by  the  manufactory  of  ribbons.  A  watch 
may  be  a  very  unnecessary  appendage  to  the  dress  of  a  peasant ; 
yet  if  the  peasant  will  till  the  ground  in  order  to  obtain  a  watch, 
the  true  design  of  trade  is  answered  :  and  the  watch-maker,  while 
he  polishes  the  case,  or  files  the  wheels  of  his  machine,  is  con- 
tributing to  the  production  of  corn  as  effectually,  though  not  so 
directly,  as  if  he  handled  the  spade  or  held  the  plough.  The  use 
of  tobacco  has  been  mentioned  already,  not  only  as  an  acknowl- 
edged superfluity,  but  as  affording  a  remarkable  example  of  the 
caprice  of  human  appetite  ;  yet,  if  the  fisherman  will  ply  his  nets, 
or  the  mariner  fetch  rice  from  foreign  countries,  in  order  to  pro- 
cure to  himself  this  indulgence,  the  market  is  supplied  with  two 
important  articles  of  provision,  by  the  instrumentality  of  a  mer- 
chandize, which  has  no  other  apparent  use  than  the  gratification 
of  a  vitiated  palate. 

But  it  may  come  to  pass  that  the  husbandman,  land-owner,  or 
whoever  he  be  that  is  entitled  to  the  produce  of  the  soil,  will  no 
longer  exchange  it  for  what  the  manufacturer  has  to  offer.     He 


ggsj  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

is  already  supplied  to  the  extent  of  his  desires.  For  instance,  he 
wants  no  more  eloth  ;  he  will  no  longer  therefore  give  the  weaver 
corn,  iu  return  for  the  produce  of  his  looms  ;  but  he  would  readily 
give  it  for  tea,  or  for  wine.  When  the  weaver  finds  this  to  be 
the  case,  he  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  send  his  cloth  abroad  in  ex- 
change for  tea  or  for  wine,  which  he  may  barter  for  that  pro- 
vision, which  the  offer  of  his  cloth  will  no  longer  procure.  The 
circulation  is  thus  revived:  and  the  benefit  of  the  discovery  is, 
that,  whereas  the  number  of  weavers,  who  could  find  subsistence 
from  their  employment,  was  before  limited  by  the  consumption  of 
cloth  in  the  country,  that  number  is  now  augmented,  in  proportion 
to  the  demand  for  tea  and  for  wine.  This  is  the  principle  of  foreign 
commerce.  In  the  magnitude  and  complexity  of  the  machine,  the 
principle  of  motion  is  sometimes  lost  or  unobserved ;  but  it  is  al- 
ways simple  and  the  same,  to  whatever  extent  it  may  be  diversi- 
fied and  enlarged  in  its  operation. 

The  effect  of  trade  upon  agriculture,  the  process  of  which  we 
have  been  endeavouring  to  describe,  is  visible  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  trading  towns,  and  in  those  districts  which  carry  on  a 
communication  with  the  markets  of  trading  towns.  The  husband- 
men are  busy  and  skilful;  the  peasantry  laborious;  the  land  is 
managed  to  the  best  advantage,  and  double  the  quantity  of  corn 
or  herbage  (articles  which  are  ultimately  converted  into  human 
provision)  raised  from  it,  of  what  the  same  soil  yields  in  remoter 
and  more  neglected  parts  of  the  country.  Wherever  a  thriving 
manufactory  finds  means  to  establish  itself,  a  new  vegetation 
springs  up  around  it.  I  believe  it  is  true  that  agriculture  never 
arrives  at  any  considerable,  much  less  at  its  highest  degree  of 
perfection,  where  it  is  not  connected  with  trade,  that  is,  where 
the  demand  for  the  produce  is  not  increased  by  the  consumption 
of  trading  cities. 

Let  it  be  remembered  then,  that  agriculture  is  the  immediate 
source  of  human  provision  ;  that  trade  conduces  to  the  production 
of  provision  only  as  it  promotes  agriculture  ;  that  the  whole  sys- 
tem of  commerce,  vast  and  various  as  it  is,  hath  no  other  publie 
importance  than  its  subserviency  to  this  end. 

We  return  to  the  proposition  we  laid  down,  "  that  employment 
universally  promotes  population."  From  this  proposition  it  fol- 
lows, that  the  comparative  utility  of  different  branches  of  national 
commerce  is  measured  by  the  number  which  each  branch  em- 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  393 

ploys.     Upon  which  principle  a  scale  may  easily  he  constructed, 
which  shall  assign  to  the  several  kinds  and  divisions  of  foreign 
trade  their  respective  degrees  of  public   importance.      In   this 
scale  the  first  place  belongs  to  the  exchange  of  wrought  goods  for 
raw  materials,  as  of  broadcloth  for  raw  silk;  cutlery  for  wool ; 
clocks  or  watches  for  iron,  flax,  or  furs  ;  because  this  traffic  pro- 
vides a  market  for  the  labour  that  has  already  been  expended,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  supplies  materials  for  new  industry.     Popu- 
lation always  flourishes  where  this  species  of  commerce  obtains 
to  any  considerable  degree.     It  is  the  cause  of  employment,  or 
the  certain  indication.     As  it  takes  off  the   manufactures  of  the 
country,  it  promotes  employment  ;  as  it  brings  in  raw  materials? 
it  supposes  the  existence  of  manufactories  in  the  country,  and  a 
demand  for  the  article  when  manufactured. — The  second  place  is 
due  to  that  commerce,  which  barters  one  species  of  wrought  goods 
for  another,  as  stuffs  for  calicoes,  fustians  for  cambrics,  leather 
for  paper,  or  wrought  goods  for  articles  which  require  no  farther 
preparation,  as  for  wine,  oil,  tea,  sugar,  &c.     This  also  assists 
employment ;  because,  when  the  country  is  stocked  with  one  kind 
of  manufacture,  it  renews  the  demand  by  converting  it  into  an- 
other :  but  it  is  inferiour  to  the  former  as  it  promotes  this  end  by 
one  side  only  of  the  bargain, — by  what  it  carries  out. — The  last, 
the  lowest,  and  most  disadvantageous  species  of  commerce,  is  the 
exportation  of  raw  materials  in  return  for  wrought  goods  :  as 
when  wool  is  sent  abroad  to  purchase  velvets  :  hides  or  peltry,  to 
procure  shoes,  hats,  or  linen  cloth.     This  trade  is  unfavourable 
to  population,  because  it  leaves  no  room  or  demand  for  employ- 
ment, either  in  what  it  takes  out  of  the  country,  or  in  what  it 
brings  into  it.     Its  operation  on  both  sides  is  noxious.     By  its  ex- 
ports it  diminishes  the  very  subject  upon  which  the  industry  of 
the  inhabitants   ought  to  be  exercised;  by  its  imports  it  lessens 
the  encouragement  of  that  industry,  in  the  same  proportion  that 
it  supplies  the   consumption  of  the  country  with  the  produce  of 
foreign  labour.     Of  different  branches  of  manufactory,  those  are, 
in  their  nature,  the  most  beneficial,  in  which  the  price  of  the 
wrought  article  exceeds  in  the  highest  proportion  that  of  the  raw 
material :  for  this  excess  measures  the  quantity  of  employment, 
or,  in   other   words,  the  number  of   manufacturers  which   each 
branch  sustains.     The  produce  of  the  ground  is  never  the  most 
advantageous  article  of  foreign  commerce.     Under  a  perfect  state 
50 


3Q4;  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

of  public  economy,  the  soil  of  the  country  should  be  applied  solely 
to  the  raising  of  provision  for  the  inhabitants,  and  its  Irade  be 
supplied  by  their  industry.  A  nation  will  never  reach  its  proper 
extent  of  population,  so  long  as  its  principal  commerce  consists  in 
the  exportation  of  corn  or  cattle,  or  even  of  wine,  oil,  tobacco, 
madder,  indigo,  timber;  because  these  last  articles  take  up  that 
surface  which  ought  to  be  covered  with  the  materials  of  human 
subsistence. 

It  must  be  here  however  noticed,  that  we  have  all  along  con- 
sidered the  inhabitants  of  a  country,  as  maintained  by  the  produce 
of  the  country;  and  that  what  we  have  said  is  applicable  with 
strictness  to  this  supposition  alone.  The  reasoning,  nevertheless, 
may  easily  be  adapted  to  a  different  case;  for  when  provision  is 
not  produced,  but  imported,  what  has  been  affirmed  concerning 
provision,  will  be,  in  a  great  measure,  true  of  that  article,  whether 
it  be  money*  produce,  or  labour,  which  is  exchanged  for  pro- 
vision. Thus,  when  the  Dutch  raise  madder,  and  exchange  it 
for  corn  ;  or  when  the  people  of  America  plant  tobacco,  and  send 
it  to  Europe  for  cloth  ;  the  cultivation  of  madder  and  tobacco,  be- 
comes as  necessary  to  the  subsistence  of  the  inhabitants,  and  by 
Consequence  will  affect  the  state  of  population  in  these  countries 
as  sensibly,  as  the  actual  production  of  food,  or  the  manufactory 
of  raiment.  In  like  manner,  when  the  same  inhabitants  of  Hol- 
land, earn  money  by  the  carriage  of  the  produce  of  one  country 
to  another,  and  with  that  money  purchase  the  provision  from 
abroad  which  their  own  land  is  not  extensive  enough  to  supply, 
the  increase  or  decline  of  this  carrying  trade  will  influence  the 
numbers  of  the  people  no  less  than  similar  changes  would  do  in 
the  cultivation  of  the  soil. 

The  few  principles  already  established  will  enable  us  to  de- 
scribe the  effects  upon  population  which  may  be  expected  from  the 
following  important  articles  of  national  conduct  and  economy. 

I.  Emigration.  Emigration  maybe  either  the  overflowing 
of  a  country,  or  the  desertion.  As  the  increase  of  the  species  is 
indefinite;  and  the  number  of  inhabitants,  which  any  given  tract 
of  surface  can  support,  finite;  it  is  evident  that  great  numbers 
may  be  constantly  leaving  a  country,  and  yet  the  country  remain 
constantly  full.  Or  whatever  be  the  cause  which  invincibly  limits 
the  population  of  a  country,  when  the  number  of  the  people 
has  arrived  at  that  limit,  the  progress  of  generation,  beside  con- 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  395 

tinuing  the  succession,  will  supply  multitudes  for  foreign  emigra- 
tion. In  these  two  cases  emigration  neither  indicates  any  political 
decay,  nor  in  truth  diminishes  the  number  of  the  people;  nor 
ought  to  be  prohibited  or  discouraged.  But  emigrants  may  re- 
linquish their  country  from  a  sense  of  insecurity,  oppression,  an- 
noyance, and  inconveniency.  Neither,  again, lieve  is  it  emigration 
which  wastes  the  people,  but  the  evils  that  occasion  it.  It  would 
he  in  vain  if  it  were  practicable,  to  confine  the  inhabitants  at  home  ; 
for  the  same  causes  which  drive  them  out  of  the  country,  would 
prevent  their  multiplication  if  they  remained  in  it.  Lastly,  men 
may  be  tempted  to  change  their  situation  by  the  allurement,  of  a 
better  climate,  of  a  more  refined  or  luxurious  manner  of  living; 
by  the  prospect  of  wealth  ;  or,  sometimes  by  the  mere  nominal 
advantage  of  higher  wages  and  priees.  This  class  of  emigrants, 
with  whom  alone  the  laws  can  interfere  with  effect,  will  never, 
I  think,  be  numerous.  With  the  generality  of  a  people,  the 
attachment  of  mankind  to  their  homes  and  country,  the  irk- 
someness  of  seeking  new  habitations,  and  of  living  amongst 
strangers,  will  outweigh,  so  long  as  men  possess  the  necessaries 
of  life  in  safety,  or  at  least  so  long  as  they  can  obtain  a  provision 
for  that  mode  of  subsistence,  which  the  class  of  citizens  to  which 
they  belong  are  accustomed  to  enjoy,  all  the  inducements  that  the 
advantages  of  a  foreign  land  can  offer.  There  appear,  therefore, 
to  be  few  cases  in  which  emigration  can  be  prohibited  with  ad- 
vantage to  the  state  ;  it  appears  also  that  emigration  is  an  equivo- 
cal symptom,  which  will  probably  accompany  the  decliue  of  the 
political  body,  but  which  may  likewise  attend  a  condition  of  per- 
fect health  and  vigour. 

II.  Colonization.  The  only  view  under  which  our  subject 
will  permit  us  to  consider  colonization,  is  in  its  tendency  to  aug- 
ment the  population  of  the  parent  state.  Suppose  a  fertile,  but 
empty  island,  to  lie  within  the  reach  of  a  country,  in  which  arts 
and  manufactures  are  already  established;  suppose  a  colony  sent 
out  from  such  a  country  to  take  possession  of  the  island,  and  to 
live  there  under  the  protection  aud  authority  of  their  native  gov- 
ernment ;  the  new  settlers  will  naturally  convert  their  labour  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  vacant  soil,  and  with  the  produce  of  that 
soil  will  draw  a  supply  of  manufactures  from  their  countrymen 
at  home.  Whilst  the  inhabitants  continue  few,  and  lands  cheap 
and  fresh,  the  colonists  will  find  it  easier  and  more  profitable  to 


ggg  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

raise  com,  or  rear  cattle,  and  with  eorn  and  cattle  to  purchase 
woollen  cloth,  for  instance,  or  linen,  than  to  spin  or  weave  these 
articles  for  themselves.  The  mother  country,  meanwhile,  derives 
from  this  connexion  an  increase  both  of  provision  and  employ- 
ment. It  promotes  at  once  the  two  great  requisites  upon  which 
the  facility  of  subsistence,  and  by  consequence  the  state  of  popu- 
lation depend,  production  and  distribution  ;•  and  this  in  a  manner 
the  most  direct  and  beneficial.  No  situation  can  be  imagined 
more  favourable  to  population,  than  that  of  a  country  which 
works  up  goods  for  others,  whilst  these  others  are  cultivating  new 
tracts  of  land  for  them.  For  as  in  a  genial  climate,  and  from  a 
fresh  soil,  the  labour  of  one  man  will  raise  provision  enough  for 
ten,  it  is  manifest  that,  where  all  are  employed  in  agriculture, much 
the  greater  part  of  the  produce  will  be  spared  from  the  consump- 
tion ;  and  that  three  out  of  four,  at  least,  of  those  who  are  main- 
tained by  it  will  reside  in  the  country  which  receives  the  redun- 
dancy. When  the  new  eountry  does  not  remit  provision  to  the 
old  one,  the  advautage  is  less  ;  but  still  the  exportation  of  wrought 
goods,  by  whatever  return  they  are  paid  for,  advances  population 
in  that  secondary  way,  in  which  those  trades  promote  it  that  are 
not  employed  in  the  production  of  provision.  Whatever  preju- 
dice, therefore,  some  late  events  have  excited  against  schemes  of 
colonization,  the  system  itself  is  founded  in  apparent  national 
utility ;  and  what  is  more,  upon  principles  favourable  to  the  com- 
mon interest  of  human  nature:  for  it  does  not  appear  by  what 
other  method  newly-diseovered  and  unfrequented  countries  can  be 
peopled,  or  duriugthe  infancy  of  their  establishment  be  protected 
or  supplied.  The  error  which  we  of  this  nation  at  present  la- 
ment, seems  to  have  consisted  not  so  much  in  the  original  forma- 
tion of  colonies,  as  in  the  subsequent  management ;  in  imposing 
restrictions  too  rig  nous,  or  in  continuing  them  too  long;  in  not 
perceiving  the  point  of  time  when  ihe  irresistible  order  and  pro- 
gress of  human  affairs  demanded  a  change  of  laws  and  policy. 

III.  Money.  Where  money  abounds,  the  people  are  geuerally 
numerous :  yet  gold  and  silver,  neither  feed  nor  clothe  mankind  ; 
nor  are  they  in  all  countries  converted  into  provision  by  purchas- 
ing the  necessaries  of  life  at  foreign  markets  ;  nor  do  they,  in  any 
country  compose  those  articles  of  personal  or  domestic  ornament, 
which  certain  orders  of  the  community  have  learnt  to  regard  as 
necessaries  of  life,  and  without  the  means  of  procuring  which 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  gg^ 

they  will  not  enter  into  family  establishments : — at  least  this 
properly  of  the  precious  metals  obtains  in  a  very  small  degree 
The  effect  of  money  upon  the  number  of  the  people,  tin  u ...  visible 
to  observation,  is  not  explained  without  some  difficulty.  To  un- 
derstand this  connexion  prqperly,  we  must  return  to  the  proposi. 
tion  with  which  we  concluded  our  reasoning  upon  the  subject, 
"  that  population  is  chiefly  promoted  by  employment."  Now  of 
employment  money  is  partly  the  indication,  and  partly  the  cause. 
The  only  way  in  which  muney  regularly  and  spontaneously  flows 
into  a  country,  is  in  return  for  the  goods  that  are  sent  out  of  it, 
or  the  work  that  is  performed  by  it:  and  the  only  way  in  which 
money  is  retained  in  a  country,  is  by  the  country  supplying, 
in  a  great  measure,  its  own  consumption  of  manufactures.  Con- 
sequently, the  quantity  of  money  found  in  a  eountry,  denotes  the 
amount  of  labour  and  employment;  but  still,  employment,  not 
money,  is  the  cause  of  population  ;  the  accumulation  of  money 
being  merely  a  collateral  effect  of  the  same  cause,  cr  a  circum- 
stance which  accompanies  the  existence,  and  measures  the  opera- 
tion of  that  cause.  And  this  is  true  of  money  only  whilst  it  is 
acquired  by  the  industry  of  the  inhabitants.  The  treasures 
which  belong  to  a  eountry  by  the  possession  of  mines,  or  by  the 
exaction  of  tribute  from  foreign  dependencies,  afford  no  conclu- 
sion concerning  the  state  of  population.  The  influx  from  these 
sources  may  be  immense,  and  yet  the  country  remain  poor  and 
ill  peopled ;  of  which  we  see  an  egregious  example  in  the  con- 
dition of  Spain,  since  the  acquisition  of  its  South-American  do- 
minions. 

But,  secondly,  money  may  become  also  a  real  and  an  operative 
cause  of  population,  by  acting  as  a  stimulus  to  industry,  and  by 
facilitating  the  means  of  subsistence.  The  ease  of  subsistence, 
and  the  encouragement  of  industry,  depend  neither  upon  the  price 
of  labour,  nor  upon  the  price  of  provision,  but  upon  the  propor- 
tion which  one  bears  to  the  other.  Now  the  influx  of  money  into 
a  country  naturally  tends  to  advance  this  proportion  ;  that  is, 
every  fresh  accession  of  money  raises  the  price  of  labour  before  it 
raises  the  price  of  provision.  When  money  is  brought  from 
abroad,  the  persons,  be  they  who  they  will,  into  whose  hands  it 
first  arrives,  do  not  buy  up  provision  with  it,  but  ap;>!r  it  to  (he 
purchase  and  payment  of  labour.  If  the  state  receives  it,  the 
state  dispenses   what  it  receives  amongst  soldiers,  sailors,  art!- 


398  OP  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

fleers,  engineers,  shipwrights,  workmen  :  if  private  persons  bring 
home  treasures  of  gold  and  silver,  they  usually  expend  them  in 
the  building  of  houses,  the  improvement  of  estates,  the  purchase 
of  furniture,  dress,  equipage,  in  articles  of  luxury  or  splendour  : 
if  the  merchant  be  enriched  by  returns  of  his  foreign  commerce, 
he  applies  his  increased  capital  to  the  enlargement  of  bis  business 
at  home.  The  money  ere  long  conies  to  market  for  provision, 
but  it  comes  thither  through  the  hands  of  the  manufacturer,  the 
artist,  the  husbandman,  and  labourer.  Its  eifect,  therefore,  upon 
the  price  af  art  and  labour  will  precede  its  effect  upon  the  price 
of  provision  ;  and,  during  the  interval  between  one  effect  aud  the 
other,  the  means  of  subsistence  will  be  multiplied  and  facilitated, 
as  well  as  industry  be  excited  by  new  rewards.  When  the  greater 
plenty  of  money  in  circulation  has  produced  an  advance  in  the 
price  of  provision,  corresponding  to  the  advanced  price  of  labour, 
its  effect  ceases.  The  labourer  no  longer  gains  any  thing  by  the 
increase  of  his  wages.  It  is  not,  therefore,  the  quantity  of  specie 
collected  into  a  country,  but  the  continual  increase  of  that  quan- 
tity, from  which  the  advantage  arises  to  employment  and  popu- 
lation. It  is  only  the  accession  of  money  which  produces  the 
effect,  and  it  is  only  by  money  constantly  flowing  into  a  country 
that  the  effect  can  be  constaut.  Now  whatever  consequence 
arises  to  the  country  from  the  influx  of  money,  the  contrary  may 
be  expected  to  follow  from  the  diminution  of  its  quantity;  and  ac~ 
cordingly  we  find,  that  whatever  cause  drains  oft"  the  specie  of  a 
country,  faster  than  the  streams  which  feed  it  can  supply,  not 
only  impoverishes  the  country,  but  depopulates  it.  The  knowl- 
edge and  experience  of  this  effect  have  given  occasion  to  a  phrase 
which  occurs  in  almost  every  discourse  upon  commerce  or  politics. 
The  balance  of  trade  with  any  foreign  nation  is  said  to  be  against 
or  in  favour  of  a  country,  simply  as  it  tends  to  carry  money  out, 
or  bring  it  in  ;  that  is,  according  as  the  price  of  the  imports  ex- 
ceeds or  falls  short  of  the  price  of  the  exports  So  invariably  is 
the  increase  or  diminution  of  the  specie  of  a  country  regarded  as 
a  test  of  the  public  advantage  or  detriment,  which  arises  from 
any  branch  of  its  commerce- 

IV.  Taxation.  As  taxes  take  nothing  out  of  a  country ;  as 
they  do  not  diminish  the  public  stock,  only  vary  the  distribu- 
tion of  it,  they  are  not  necessarily  prejudicial  to  population.  If 
the  state  exact  money  from  certain  members  of  the  community. 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  399 

jibe  dispenses  it  also  amongst  other  members  of  the  same  commu- 
nity. They  who  contribute  to  the  revenue,  and  they  who  are 
supported  or  benefited  by  the  expenses  of  government,  are  to  be' 
placed  one  against  the  other ;  and  whilst  what  the  subsistence  of 
one  part  is  profited  by  receiving,  compensates  for  what  that  of 
the  other  suffers  by  paying,  the  common  fund  of  the  society  is  not 
lessened.  This  is  true :  but  it  must  be  observed,  that  although 
the  sum  distributed  by  the  state  be  always  equal  to  the  sum  col- 
lected from  the  people,  yet  the  gain  and  loss  to  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence may  be  very  unequal;  and  the  balance  will  remain  on 
the  wrong  or  the  right  side  of  the  accouut,  according  as  the 
money  passes  by  taxation  from  the  industrious  to  the  idle,  from 
the  many  to  the  few,  from  those  who  want  to  those  who  abound, 
ov  in  a  contrary  direction.  For  instance,  a  tax  upon  coaches,  to 
be  laid  out  in  the  repair  of  roads,  would  probably  improve  the 
population  of  a  neighbourhood  ;  a  tax  upon  cottages,  to  be  ulti- 
mately expended  in  the  purchase  and  support  of  coaches,  would 
certainly  diminish  it.  In  like  manner,  a  tax  upon  wine  or  tea, 
distributed  in  bounties  to  fishermen  or  husbandmen,  would  aug- 
ment the  provision  of  a  country;  a  tax  upon  fisheries  and  hus- 
bandry, however  indirect  or  concealed,  to  be  converted,  when 
raised,  to  the  procuring  of  wine  or  tea  for  the  idle  and  opulent, 
would  naturally  impair  the  public  stock.  The  effect,  therefore, 
of  taxes  upon  the  means  of  subsistence  depends  not  so  much  upon 
the  amount  of  the  sum  levied,  as  upon  the  object  of  the  tax,  and 
the  application.  Taxes  likewise  may  be  so  adjusted  as  to  conduce 
to  the  restraint  of  luxury,  and  the  correction  of  vice;  to  the  en- 
couragement of  industry,  trade,  agriculture,  and  marriage.  Taxes, 
thus  contrived,  become  rewards  and  penalties ;  not  only  sources 
of  revenue,  but  instruments  of  police.  Vices  indeed  themselves 
cannot  be  taxed  without  holding  forth  such  a  conditional  tolera- 
tion of  them  as  to  destroy  men's  perception  of  their  guilt :  a  tax 
comes  to  be  considered  as  a  commutation  :  the  materials,  however, 
and  incentives  of  vice  may.  Although,  for  instance,  drunkenness 
would  be,  on  this  account,  an  unfit  object  of  taxation,  yet  public 
houses  and  spirituous  liquors  are  very  properly  subjected  to 
heavy  imposts. 

Nevertheless,  although  it  may  be  true  that  taxes  cannot  be 
pronounced  to  be  detrimental  to  population,  by  any  absolute  ne- 
cessity in  their  nature?  and  though,  under  some  modification?. 


400  OF  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

and  when  urged  only  to  a  certain  extent,  they  may  even  operate 
iu  favour  of  it  5  yet  it  will  be  found,  in  a  great  plurality  of 
instances,  that  their  tendency  is  noxious.  Let  it  be  supposed 
that  nine  families  inhabit  a  neighbourhood,  each  possessing  bare- 
ly the  means  of  subsistence,  or  of  that  mode  of  subsistence  which 
custom  hath  established  amongst  them;  let  a  tenth  family  be 
quartered  upon  these,  to  be  supported  by  a  tax  raised  from  the 
nine;  or  rather,  let  one  of  the  nine  have  his  income  augmented 
by  a  similar  deduction  from  the  incomes  of  the  rest  ;  in  either  of 
these  eases,  it  is  evident  that  the  whole  district  would  be  broken 
up.  For  as  the  entire  income  of  each  is  supposed  to  be  barely 
sufficient  for  the  establishment  which  it  maintains,  a  deduction  of 
any  part  destroys  that  establishment.  Now  it  is  no  answer  to 
this  objection,  it  is  no  apology  for  the  grievance,  to  say,  that 
nothing  is  taken  out  of  the  neighbourhood  :  that  the  stock  is  not 
diminished  :  the  mischief  is  done  by  deranging  the  distribution. 
Nor,  again,  is  the  luxury  of  one  family,  or  even  the  maintenance 
of  an  additional  family,  a  recompense  to  the  country  for  the 
ruin  of  nine  others.  Nor,  lastly,  will  it  alter  the  effect,  though 
it  may  conceal  the  cause,  that  the  contribution,  instead  of  being 
levied  directly  upon  each  day's  wages,  is  mixed  up  in  the  price  of 
some  article  of  constant  use  and  consumption,  as  in  a  tax  upon, 
candles,  malt,  leather,  or  fuel.  This  example  illustrates  the 
tendency  of  taxes  to  obstruct  subsistence  :  and  the  minutest  de- 
gree of  this  obstruction  will  be  felt  in  the  formation  of  families. 
The  example,  indeed,  forms  an  extreme  case  :  the  evil  is  magni- 
fied, in  order  to  render  its  operation  distinct  and  visible.  In  real 
life,  families  may  not  be  broken  up,  or  forced  from  their  habita- 
tion, houses  be  quitted,  or  countries  suddenly  deserted,  in  conse- 
quence of  any  new  imposition  whatever;  but  marriages  will  be- 
come gradually  less  frequent. 

It  seems  necessary,  however,  to  distinguish  between  the  opera- 
tion of  a  new  tax,  and  the  effect  of  taxes  which  have  been  long 
established.  In  the  course  of  circulation  the  mouey  may  flow 
back  to  the  hands  from  which  it  was  taken.  The  proportion 
between  the  supply  and  the  expense  of  subsistence,  which  had 
been  disturbed  by  the  tax,  may  at  length  recover  itself  again.  In 
the  instance  just  now  stated,  the  addition  of  a  tenth  family  to  the 
neighbourhood,  or  the  enlarged  expenses  of  one  of  the  nine,  may, 
in  some  shape  or  other,  so  advanee  the  profits,  or  increase  the 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  4,0| 

employment  of  the  rest,  as  to  make  full  restitution  for  the  share 
of  their  property  of  which  it  deprives  them;  or,  what  is  more 
likely  to  happen,  a  reduction  may  take  place  in  their  mode  of 
living,  suited  to  the  abridgment  of  their  incomes.  Yet  still  the 
ultimate  and  permanent  effect  of  taxation,  though  distinguishable 
from  the  impression  of  a  new  tax,  is  generally  adverse  to  popula- 
tion. The  proportion  above  spoken  of,  can  only  be  restored  by 
one  side  or  other  of  the  following  alternative :  by  the  people 
either  contracting  their  wants,  which  at  the  same  time  diminishes 
Consumption  and  employment ;  or  by  raising  the  price  of  labour, 
which  necessarily  adding  to  the  price  of  the  productions  and 
manufactures  of  the  country,  checks  their  sale  at  foreign  markets. 
A  nation  which  is  burthened  with  taxes,  must  always  be  under- 
sold by  a  nation  which  is  free  from  them,  unless  the  difference  be 
made  up  by  some  singular  advantage  of  climate,  soil,  skill,  or  in- 
dustry.  This  quality  belongs  to  all  taxes  which  affect  the  mass 
of  the  community,  even  when  imposed  upon  the  properest  objects, 
and  applied  to  the  fairest  purposes.  But  abuses  are  inseparable 
from  the  disposal  of  public  money.  As  governments  are  usually 
administered,  the  produce  of  public  taxes  is  expended  upon  a  train 
of  gentry,  in  the  maintaining  of  pomp,  or  in  the  purchase  of  in- 
fluence. The  conversion  of  property  which  taxes  effectuate, 
when  they  are  employed  in  this  manner,  is  attended  with  tbvious 
evils.  It  takes  from  the  industrious  to  give  to  the  idle ;  it  in- 
creases the  number  of  the  latter ;  it  tends  to  accumulation ;  it 
sacrifices  the  conveniency  of  many  to  the  luxury  of  a  few;  it  makes 
no  return  to  the  people,  from  whom  the  tax  is  drawn,  that  is  satis- 
factory or  intelligible ;  it  encourages  no  activity  which  is  useful 
or  productive. 

The  sum  to  be  raised  being  settled,  a  wise  statesman  will  con- 
trive his  taxes  principally  with  a  view  to  their  effect  upon  popula- 
tion :  that  is,  he  will  so  adjust  them  as  to  give  the  least  possible 
obstruction  to  those  means  of  subsistence  by  which  the  mass  of 
the  community  is  maintained.  We  are  accustomed  to  an  opinion 
that  a  tax,  to  be  just,  ought  to  be  accurately  proportioned  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  persons  who  pay  it.  But  upon  what,  it 
might  be  asked,  is  the  opinion  founded  ;  unless  it  could  be  shewn 
that  such  a  proportion  interferes  the  least  with  the  general  con- 
veniency of  subsistence  ?  whereas  I  should  rather  believe,  that  a 
tax,  constructed,  with  a  view  to  that  conveniency,  ought  to  rise 


403  01?  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

upon  the  different  classes  of  the  community,  in  a  much  higher 
ratio  than  the  simple  proportion  of  their  incomes.  The  point  to 
he  regarded,  is  not  what  men  have,  but  what  they  can  spare  ;  and 
it  is  evident  that  a  man  who  possesses  a  thousand  pounds  a  years, 
can  more  easily  give  up  a  hundred,  than  a  man  with  a  hundred 
pounds  a  year  can  part  with  ten  ;  that  is,  those  habits  of  life 
which  are  reasonable  and  innocent,  and  upon  the  ability  to  con- 
tinue which  the  formation  of  families  depends,  will  be  much  less 
affected  by  the  one  deduction  than  the  other  :  it  is  still  more  evi- 
dent, that  a  man  of  a  hundred  pounds  a  year  would  not  be  so 
much  distressed  in  his  subsistence,  by  a  demand  from  him  of  ten 
pounds,  as  a  man  of  ten  pounds  a  year  would  be  by  the  loss  of 
one  :  to  which  we  must  add,  that  the  population  of  every  country 
being  replenished  by  the  marriages  of  the  lowest  ranks  of  the 
society,  their  accommodation  and  relief  become  of  more  importance 
to  the  state,  than  the  conveniency  of  any  higher  but  less  numerous 
order  of  its  citizens.  But  whatever  be  the  proportion  which  pub- 
lic expediency  directs,  whether  the  simple,  the  duplicate,  or  any 
higher  or  intermediate  proportion  of  men's  incomes,  it  can  never 
be  attained  by  any  single  tax  ;  as  no  single  object  of  taxation  can 
be  found,  which  measures  the  ability  of  the  subject  with  suffi- 
cient generality  and  exactness.  It  is  only  by  a  system  and  variety 
of  taxes  mutually  balancing  and  equalizing  one  another,  that  a 
due  proportion  can  be  preserved.  For  instance,  if  a  tax  upon 
lands  press  with  greater  hardship  upon  those  who  live  in  the 
country,  it  may  be  properly  counterpoised  by  a  tax  upon  the  rent 
of  houses,  which  will  affect  principally  the  inhabitants  of  large 
towns.  Distinctions  may  also  be  framed  in  some  taxes,  which 
shall  allow  abatements  or  exemptions  to  married  persons  ;  to  the 
parents  of  a  certain  number  of  legitimate  children;  to  improvers 
of  the  soil ;  to  particular  modes  of  cultivation,  as  to  tillage  in 
preference  to  pasturage ;  and  in  general  to  that  iudustry  which 
is  immediately  productive,  in  preference  to  that  which  is  only  in- 
strumental ;  but,  above  all,  which  may  leave  the  heaviest  part  of 
the  burden  upon  ihe  methods,  whatever  they  be,  of  acquiring 
wealth  without  industry,  or  even  of  subsisting  in  idleness. 

V.  Exportation  of  bread-corn.  Nothing  seems  to  have  a 
more  positive  tendency  to  reduce  the  number  of  the  people,  than 
the  sending  abroad  part  of  the  provision  by  which  they  are  main- 
tained; yet  this  has  been  the  policy  of  legislators  very  studious 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  403 

of  the  improvement  of  their  country.  In  order  to  reconcile  our- 
selves to  a  practice,  which  appears  to  militate  with  the  chief  in- 
terest, that  is,  with  (he  population  of  the  country  that  adopts  it., 
we  must  be  reminded  of  a  maxim  which  belongs  to  the  productions 
both  of  nature  and  art,  "  that  it  is  impossible  to  have  enough 
without  a  superfluity."  The  point  of  sufficiency  cannot,  in  any 
case,  be  so  exactly  hit  upon,  as  to  have  nothing  to  spare,  yet 
never  to  want.  This  is  peculiarly  true  of  bread-corn,  of  which 
the  annual  increase  is  extremely  variable.  As  it  is  necessary 
that  the  crop  be  adequate  to  the  consumption  in  a  year  of  scarcity, 
it  must,  of  consequence,,  greatly  exceed  it  in  a  year  of  plenty.  A 
redundancy  therefore  will  occasionally  arise  from  the  very  care 
that  is  taken  to  secure  the  people  against  the  danger  of  want  5 
and  it  is  manifest  that  the  exportation  of  this  redundancy  sub- 
tracts nothing  from  the  number  that  can  regularly  be  maintained 
by  the  produce  of  the  soil.  Moreover,  as  the  exportation  of  corn, 
under  these  circumstances,  is  attended  with  no  direct  injury  to 
population,  so  the  benefits,  which  indirectly  arise  to  population 
from  foreign  commerce,  belong  to  this,  in  common  with  other 
species  of  trade  ;  together  with  the  peculiar  advantage  of  pre- 
senting a  constant  incitement  to  the  skill  and  industry  of  the  hus- 
bandman, by  the  promise  of  a  certain  sale  and  an  adequate  priee, 
under  every  contingency  of  season  and  produce.  There  is 
another  situation,  in  which  corn  may  not  only  be  exported,  but  in 
which  the  people  can  thrive  by  no  other  means  ;  that  is,  of  a 
newly  settled  country  with  a  fertile  soil.  The  exportation  of  a 
large  proportion  of  the  corn  which  a  country  produces,  proves,  it 
is  true,  that  the  inhabitants  have  not  yet  attained  to  the  number 
which  the  country  is  capable  of  maintaining  :  but  it  does  not 
prove  but  that  they  may  be  hastening  to  this  limit  with  the 
utmost  practicable  celerity,  which  is  the  perfection  to  be  sought  for 
in  a  young  establishment.  In  all  cases  except  those  two,  and  in 
the  former  of  them  to  any  greater  degree  than  what  is  necessary 
to  take  off  occasional  redundancies,  the  exportation  of  corn  is 
either  itself  noxious  to  population,  or  argues  a  defect  of  popula- 
tion arising  from  some  other  cause. 

VI.  Abridgment  of  labour.  It  has  long  been  made  a 
question,  whether  those  mechanical  contrivances,  which  abridge 
labour,  by  performing  the  same  work  by  fewer  hands,  be  detri- 
mental or  not  to  the  population  of  a  country.     From  what  has 


404)  0F  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

been  delivered  in  preceding  parts  of  the  present  chapter,  it  will 
be  evident  that  this  question  is  equivalent  to  another,  whether 
such   contrivances  diminish  or  not  the  quantity  of  employment. 
Their  first  and  most  obvious  effect  undoubtedly  is  this  ;  because, 
if  one  man  be  made  to  do  what  three  men  did  before,  two  are 
immediately  discharged ;  but  if,  by  some  more  general  and  re- 
moter consequence,  they  increase  the  demand  for  work,  or,  what 
is  the  same  thing,  prevent  the  diminution  of  that  demand,  in  a 
greater  proportion  than  they  contract  the  number  of  hands  by 
which  it  is  performed,  the  quantity  of  employment,  upon  the 
whole,  will  gain  an  addition.     Upon  which  principle  it  may  be 
observed,  firstly,  that  whenever  a  mechanical  invention  succeeds 
in  one  place,  it  is  necessary  that  it  be  imitated  in  every  other 
where  the  same  manufacture  is  carried  on  ;  for  it  is  manifest  that 
he,  who  has  the  benefit  of  a  conciser  operation,  will  soon  outvie 
and  undersell  a  competitor  who  continues  to  use  a  more  circuitous 
labour.     It  is  also  true,  in  the  second  place,  that  whoever  first 
discover  or  adopt  a  mechanical  improvement,  will,  for  some  time, 
draw  to  themselves  an  increase  of  employment;  and  that  this 
preference  may  continue  even  after  the  improvement  has  become 
general  :    for  in  every   kind    of  trade,  it  is  not  only  a  great 
but  permanent  advantage,  to  have  once  pre-occupied  the  public 
reputation.     Thirdly,  after  every  superiority  which  might  be  de- 
rived from  the  possession  of  a  secret  has  ceased,  it  may  be  well 
questioned,  whether  even  then  any  loss  can  aecrue  to  employ- 
ment.    The  same  money  will  be  spared  to  the  same  article  still. 
Wherefore,  in  proportion  as  the  article  can  be  afforded  at  a  lower 
price,  by  reason  of  an  easier  or  shorter  process  in  the  manufac- 
ture it  will   either  grow   into    more  general  use,  or  an  improve- 
ment will  take  place  in  the  quality  and  fabrick,  which  will  demand 
a  proportionable  addition  of  hands.     The  number  of  persons  em- 
ployed in  the  manufactory  of  stockings  has  not,  I  apprehend, 
decreased,  since  the  invention  of  stocking-mills.     The  amount  of 
what  is  expended  upon  the  article,  after  subtracting  from  it  the 
price  of  the  raw  material,  and  consequently  what  is  paid  for  work 
in  this  branch  of  our  manufactories,  is  not  less  than  it  was  before. 
Goods  of  a  finer  texture  are  worn  in  the  place  of  coarser.     This 
is  the   change  which   the  inveution  has  produced ;    and  which 
compensates  to  the  manufactory  for  every  other  inconveniency. 
Add  to  which,  that  in  the  above,  and  in  almost  every  instance,  an 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  4Q5 

improvement  which  conduces  to  the  recommendation  of  a  manu- 
factory, either  by  the  cheapness  or  the  quality  of  the  goods,  draws 
up  after  it  many  dependent  employments,  in  which  no  abbreviation 
has  taken  place. 


From  the  reasoning  that  has  been  pursued,  and  the  various 
considerations  suggested  in  this  chapter,  a  judgment  may,  in  some 
sort,  be  formed,  how  far  regulations  of  law  are  in  their  nature 
capable  of  contributing  to  the  support  and  advancement  of  popu- 
lation. I  say,  how  far:  for,  as  in  many  subjects,  so  especially 
in  those  which  relate  to  commerce,  to  plenty,  to  riches,  and  to  the 
number  of  people,  more  is  wont  to  be  expected  from  laws,  than 
laws  can  do.  Laws  can  only  imperfectly  restrain  that  dissoluteness 
of  manners,  which,  by  diminishing  the  frequency  of  marriages, 
impairs  the  very  source  of  population.  Laws  cannot  regulate 
the  wants  of  mankind,  their  mode  of  living,  or  their  desire  of 
those  superfluities  which  fashion,  more  irresistible  than  laws, 
has  once  introduced  into  general  usage ;  or,  in  other  words,  has 
erected  into  necessaries  of  life.  Laws  cannot  induce  men  to  enter 
into  marriages,  when  the  expenses  of  a  family  must  deprive  them 
of  that  system  of  accommodation  to  which  they  have  habituated 
their  expectations.  Laws,  by  their  protection,  by  assuring  to  the 
labourer  the  fruit  and  profit  of  his  labour,  may  help  to  make  a 
people  industrious  ;  but  without  industry,  the  laws  cannot  provide 
either  subsistence  or  employment ;  laws  cannot  make  corn  grow 
without  toil  and  care  \  or  trade  flourish  without  art  and  diligence. 
In  spite  of  all  laws,  the  expert,  laborious,  honest  workman  will 
be  employed,  in  preference  to  the  lazy,  the  unskilful,  the  fraudu- 
lent, and  evasive ;  and  this  is  not  more  true  of  two  inhabitants  of 
the  same  village,  than  it  is  of  the  people  of  two  different  coun- 
tries, which  communicate  either  with  each  other,  or  with  the  rest 
of  the  world.  The  natural  basis  of  trade  is  rivalship  of  quality 
and  price ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  of  skill  and  industry. 
Every  attempt  to  force  trade  by  operation  of  law,  that  is,  by  com- 
pelling persons  to  buy  goods  at  one  market,  which  they  can  obtain 
cheaper  and  better  from  another,  is  sure  to  be  either  eluded  by 
the  quick-sightedness  and  incessant  activity  of  private  interest, 


406  0F  POPULATION,  PROVISION, 

or  to  he  frustrated  by  retaliation.  One  half  of  the  commercial 
laws  of  many  states  are  calculated  merely  to  counteract  the  re- 
strictions which  have  been  imposed  by  other  states.  Perhaps  the 
only  way  in  which  the  interposition  of  law  is  salutary  in  trade,  is 
in  the  prevention  of  frauds. 

Next  to  the  indispensable  requisites  of  internal  peace  and  se- 
curity, the  chief  advantage  which  can  be  derived  to  population 
from  the  interference  of  law,  appears  to  me  to  consist  in  the  en- 
couragement of  agriculture.  This,  at  least,  is  the  direct  way  of 
increasing  the  number  of  the  people ;  every  other  mode  being 
effectual  -only  by  its  influence  upon  this.  Now  the  principal  ex- 
pedient by  which  such  a  purpose  can  be  promoted,  is  to  adjust  the 
laws  of  property,  as  nearly  as  possible,  to  the  following  rules; 
first.  "  to  give  to  the  occupier  all  the  power  over  the  soil  which 
is  necessary  for  its  perfect  cultivation;" — secondly,  "  to  assign 
the  vthole  profit  of  every  improvement  to  the  persons  by  whose 
activity  it  is  carried  on."  What  we  call  property  in  land,  as 
hath  been  observed  above,  is  power  over  it.  Now  it  is  indifferent 
to  the  public  in  whose  hands  this  power  resides,  if  it  be  rightly 
used  :  it  matters  not  to  whom  the  land  belongs,  if  it  be  well  cul- 
tivated. When  we  lament  that  great  estates  are  often  united  in 
the  same  hand,  or  complain  that  one  man  possesses  what  would 
be  sufficient  for  a  thousand,  we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  misled  by 
words.  The  owner  often  thousand  pounds  a  year  cotisumes little 
more  of  the  produce  of  the  soil  than  the  owner  of  ten  pounds  a 
year.  If  the  cultivation  be  equal,  the  estate,  in  the  hands  of  one 
great  lord  affords  subsistence  and  employment  to  the  same  num- 
ber of  persons  as  it  would  do  if  it  were  divided  amongst  a  hundred 
proprietors.  In  like  manner  we  ought  to  judge  of  the  effect  upon 
the  public  interest,  which  may  arise  from  lands  being  holden  by 
the  king,  or  by  the  subject ;  by  private  persons,  or  by  corpora- 
tions :  by  laymen,  or  ecclesiastics  ;  in  fee,  or  for  life;  by  virtue 
of  office,  or  in  right  of  inheritance.  I  do  not  mean  that  these 
varieties  make  no  difference,  but  I  mean  that  all  the  difference 
they  do  make  respects  the  cultivation  of  the  lands  which  are  so 
holden. 

There  exist  in  this  country  conditions  of  tenure  which  condemn 
the  land  itself  to  perpetual  sterility.  Of  this  kind  is  the  right 
of  common,  which  precludes  each  proprietor  from  the  improve- 
ment, or  even  the  convenient  occupation,  of  his  estate,  without 


AGRICULTURE,  AND  COMMERCE.  4Q7 

(what  seldom  can  be  obtained)  the  consent  of  many  others. 
This  tenure  is  also  usually  embarrassed  by  the  interference  of 
manorial  claims,  under  which  it  often  happens  that  the  surface 
belongs  to  one  owner,  and  the  soil  to  another;  so  that  neither 
owner  can  stir  a  clod  without  the  concurrence  of  his  partner  in 
the  property.  In  many  manors,  tbe  tenant  is  restrained  from  grant- 
ing leases  beyond  a  short  term  of  years ;  which  renders  every  plan 
of  solid  improvement  impracticable.  In  these  cases  the  owner 
wants  what  the  first  role  of  rational  policy  requires,  "  sufficient 
power  over  tbe  soil  for  its  perfect  cultivation.''  This  power 
ought  to  be  extended  to  him  by  some  easy  and  general  law  of  en- 
franchisement, partition,  and  inclosure ;  which,  though  compul- 
sory upon  the  lord,  or  the  rest  of  the  tenants,  whilst  it  has  in  view 
the  melioration  of  the  soil,  and  tenders  an  equitable  compensation 
for  every  right  that  it  takes  away,  is  neither  more  arbitrary,  nor 
more  dangerous  to  the  stability  of  property,  than  that  which  is 
done  in  the  construction  of  roads,  bridges,  embankments,  naviga- 
ble canals,  and  indeed  in  almost  every  public  work,  in  which  pri- 
yate  owners  of  land  are  obliged  to  accept  that  price  for  their 
property  which  an  indifferent  jury  may  award.  It  may  here, 
however,  be  proper  to  observe,  that  although  the  inclosure  of 
wastes  and  pastures  be  generally  beneficial  to  population,  yet  the 
inclosure  of  lands  in  tillage,  in  order  to  convert  them  into  pas- 
tures, is  as  generally  hurtful. 

But,  secondly,  agriculture  is  discouraged  by  every  constitution 
of  landed  properly  which  lets  in  those,  who  have  no  concern  in 
the  improvement,  to  a  participation  of  the  profit.  This  objectiou 
is  applicable  to  all  such  customs  of  manors  as  subject  the  pro- 
prietor, upon  the  death  of  tbe  lord  or  tenant,  or  the  alieuatiou  of 
the  estate,  to  a  fine  apportioned  to  the  improved  value  of  the  land. 
But  of  all  institutions  which  are  in  this  way  adverse  to  cultiva- 
tion and  improvement,  none  is  so  noxious  as  that  of  tithes.  A 
clairnaut  here  enters  into  (he  produce,  who  contributed  no  assis- 
tance whatever  to  the  production.  When  years,  perhaps,  of  care 
and  toil  have  matured  an  improvement ;  when  the  husbandman 
sees  new  crops  ripening  to  his  skill  and  industry  ;  the  moment  he 
is  ready  to  put  his  sickle  to  the  grain,  he  finds  himself  compelled 
to  divide  his  harvest  with  a  stranger.  Tithes  are  a  tax  not  only 
upon  industry,  but  upon  that  industry  which  feeds  mankind  ;  upon 
that  species  of  exertion  which  it  is  the  aim  of  all  wise  laws  to 


408  OF  WAR,  AND 

cherish  and  promote  ;  and  to  uphold  and  excite  which,  composes, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  main  benefit  that  the  community  receives 
from  the  whole  system  of  trade,  and  the  success  of  commerce. 
And,  together  with  the  more  general  inconvenieucy  that  attends 
the  exaction  of  tithes,  there  is  this  additional  evil,  in  the  mode  at 
least  according  to  which  they  are  collected  at  present,  that  they 
operate  as  a  bounty  upon  pasturage.  The  burthen  of  the  tax  falls 
with  its  chief,  if  not  with  its  whole  weight,  upon  tillage  ;  that  is 
to  say,  upon  that  precise  mode  of  cultivation  which,  as  hath  been 
shown  above,  it  is.  the  business  of  the  state  to  relieve  and  remuner- 
ate, in  preference  to  every  other.  No  measure  of  such  extensive 
concern  appears  to  me  so  practicable,  nor  any  single  alteration 
so  beneficial,  as  the  conversion  of  tithes  into  corn  rents.  This 
commutation,  I  am  convinced,  might  be  so  adjusted,  as  to  secure 
to  the  tithe-holder  a  complete  and  perpetual  equivalent  for  his 
interest,  and  to  leave  to  industry  its  full  operation  and  entire  re- 
ward. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

OF  WAR,  AND  OF  MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

BECAUSE  the  Christian  Scriptures  describe  wars,  as  what 
they  are,  as  crimes  or  judgments,  some  have  been  led  to  believe 
that  it  is  unlawful  for  a  Christian  to  bear  arms.  But  it  should 
be  remembered,  that  it  may  be  necessary  for  individuals  to  unite 
their  force,  and  for  this  end  to  resign  themselves  to  the  direction 
of  a  common  will ;  and  yet  it  may  be  true  that  that  will  is  often 
actuated  by  criminal  motives,  and  often  determined  to  destructive 
purposes.  Hence,  although  the  origin  of  wars  be  ascribed  ia 
Scripture  to  the  operation  of  lawless  and  malignant  passions  ;* 
and  though  war  itself  be  enumerated  among  the  sorest  calamities 
with  which  a  land  can  be  visited,  the  profession  of  a  soldier  is  no' 
where  forbidden  or  condemned.    When  the  soldiers  demanded  of 

*  James,  iv.  t. 


MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.  409 

John  the  Baptist  what  they  should  do,  he  said  unto  them,  "  Do 
violence  to  no  man,  neither  accuse  any  falsely,  and  be  content 
with  your  wages.''*  In  which  answer  we  do  not  find  that,  in 
order  to  prepare  themselves  for  the  reception  of  the  kingdom  of 
God,  it  was  required  of  soldiers  to  relinquish  their  profession,  but 
only  that  they  should  beware  of  the  vices  of  which  that  profession 
was  accused.  The  precept  which  follows,  "  Be  content  with 
your  wages,"  supposed  them  to  continue  in  their  situation.  It 
was  of  a  Roman  centurion  that  Christ  pronounced  that  memora- 
ble eulogy,  "  1  have  not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel."! 
The  first  Gentile  convert}:  who  was  received  into  the  Christian 
church,  and  to  whom  the  gospel  was  imparted  by  the  immediate 
and  especial  direction  of  Heaven,  held  the  same  station  :  and  in 
the  history  of  this  transaction  we  discover  not  the  smallest  inti- 
mation, that  Cornelius,  upon  becoming  a  Christian,  quitted  the 
service  of  the  Roman  legion  ;  that  his  profession  was  objected  to, 
or  his  continuance  in  it  considered  as  in  any  wise  inconsistent 
with  his  new  character. 

In  applying  the  principles  of  morality  to  the  affairs  of  nations, 
the  difficulty  which  meets  us  arises  from  hence,  "  that  the  particu- 
lar consequence  sometimes  appears  to  exceed  the  value  of  the 
general  rule."  In  this  circumstance  is  founded  the  only  distinc- 
tion that  exists  between  the  case  of  independent  states,  and  of  in- 
dependent individuals.  In  the  transactions  of  private  persons,  no 
advantage  that  results  from  the  breach  of  a  general  law  of  justice, 
can  compensate  to  the  public  for  the  violation  of  the  law  :  in  the 
concerns  of  empire,  this  may  sometimes  be  doubted.  Thus,  that 
the  faith  of  promises  ought  to  be  maintained,  as  far  as  is  lawful, 
and  as  far  as  was  intended  by  the  parties,  whatever  inconven- 
iency  either  of  them  may  suffer  by  his  fidelity,  in  the  intercourse 
of  private  life,  is  seldom  disputed ;  because  it  is  evident  to  almost 
every  man  who  reflects  upon  the  subject,  that  the  common  happi- 
ness gains  more  by  the  preservation  of  the  rule,  than  it  could  do 
by  the  removal  of  the  inconveniency.  But  when  the  adherence 
to  a  public  treaty  would  enslave  a  whole  people,  would  block  up 
seas,  rivers,  or  harbours,  depopulate  eities,  condemn  fertile  regions 
to  eternal  desolation,  cut  off  a  country  from  its  sources  of  pro- 
vision, or  deprive  it  of  those  commercial  advantages,  to  which  its 

*  Luke,  iii.  14.  f  Luke,  vii.  9.  *  Acts,  x.  1. 

02 


4.10  Qi  war,  AND  0i' 

climate,  produce,  or  situation  naturally  entitle  it ;  the  magnitude 
of  the  particular  evil  induces  us  to  call  in  question  the  obligation 
of  the  general  rule.  Moral  philosophy  furnishes  no  precise  solu- 
tion to  these  doubts.  She  cannot  pronounce  that  any  rule  of 
morality  is  so  rigid  as  to  bend  to  no  exceptions  ;  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  can  she  comprise  these  exceptions  within  any  pre- 
vious description.  She  confesses  that  the  obligation  of  every 
law  depends  upon  its  ultimate  utility;  that,  this  utility  having  a 
finite  and  determinate  value,  situations  may  be  feigned,  and  con- 
sequently may  possibly  arise,  in  which  the  general  tendency  is 
outweighed  by  the  enormity  of  the  particular  mischief:  but  she 
recalls,  at  the  same  time,  to  the  consideration  of  the  inquirer, 
the  almost  inestimable  importance,  as  of  other  general  rules  of 
relative  justice,  so  especially  of  national  and  personal  fidelity  : 
the  unseen,  if  not  unbounded,  extent  of  the  mischief  which  must 
follow  from  the  want  of  it ;  the  danger  of  leaving  it  to  the  sufferer 
to  decide  upon  the  comparison  of  particular  and  general  conse- 
quences; and  the  still  greater  danger  of  such  decisions  being 
drawn  into  future  precedents.  If  treaties,  for  instance,  be  no 
longer  binding  than  whilst  they  are  convenient,  or  until  the  incon- 
veuiency  ascend  to  a  certain  point,  which  point  must  be  fixed  by 
the  judgment,  or  rather  by  the  feelings,  of  the  complaining  par- 
ty ;  or  if  such  an  opinion,  after  being  authorized  by  a  few  exam- 
ples, come  at  length  to  prevail ;  one  and  almost  the  only  method 
of  averting  or  closing  the  calamities  of  war,  of  either  prevent- 
ing or  putting  a  stop  to  the  destruction  of  mankind,  is  lost  to  the 
world  forever.  We  do  not  say  that  no  evil  can  exceed  this,  nor 
any  possible  advantage  compensate  it ;  but  we  say  that  a  loss, 
w  hich  affects  all,  will  scarcely  be  made  up  to  the  common  stock 
of  human  happiness  by  any  benefit  that  can  be  procured  to  a  single 
nation,  which,  however  respectable  when  compared  with  any  other 
single  nation,  hears  an  inconsiderable  proportion  to  the  whole. 
These,  however,  are  the  principles  upon  which  the  calculation  is 
to  be  formed.  It  is  enough,  in  this  place,  to  remark  the  cause 
■which  produces  the  hesitation  that  we  sometimes  feel,  in  applying 
rules  of  personal  probity  to  the  conduct  of  nations. 

As  between  individuals  it  is  found  impossible  to  ascertain  every 
duty  by  an  immediate  reference  to  public  utility,  not  only  be- 
cause such  reference  is  oftentimes  too  remote  for  the  direction  of 
private  consciences,  but  because  a  multitude  of  cases  arise  in 


MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.  41 1_ 

which  it  is  indifferent  to  the  general  interest  by  what  rule  men 
act,  though  it  be  absolutely  necessary  that  they  act  by  some  con- 
stant and  known  rule  or  other;  and  as  for  these  reasons  certain 
positive  constitutions  are  wont  to  be  established  in  every  society, 
which,  when  established,  become  as  obligatory  as  the  original 
principles  of  natural  justice  themselves ;  so,  likewise,  it  is  be- 
tween independent  communities.  Together  with  those  maxims  of 
universal  equity  which  are  common  to  states  and  to  individuals, 
and  by  which  the  rights  and  conduct  of  the  one  as  well  as  the 
other  ought  to  be  adjusted,  when  they  fall  within  the  scope  and 
application  of  such  maxims ;  there  exists  also  amongst  sovereigns 
a  system  of  artificial  jurisprudence,  under  the  name  of  the  laiv  of 
nations.  In  this  code  are  found  the  rules  which  determine  the 
right  to  vacant  or  newly-discovered  countries ;  those  which  re- 
late to  the  protection  of  fugitives,  the  privileges  of  ambassadors, 
the  condition  and  duties  of  neutrality,  the  immunities  of  neutral 
ships,  ports,  and  coasts,  the  distance  from  shore  to  which  these 
immunities  extend,  the  distinction  between  free  and  contraband 
goods,  and  a  variety  of  subjects  of  the  same  kind.  Concerning 
which  examples,  and  indeed  the  principal  part  of  what  is  called 
the  jus  gentium,  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  rules  derive  their 
moral  force,  by  which  I  mean  the  regard  that  ought  to  be  paid  to 
them  by  the  consciences  of  sovereigns,  not  from  their  internal 
reasonableness  or  justice,  for  many  of  tfiem  are  perfectly  arbitra- 
ry ;  nor  yet  from  the  authority  by  which  they  were  established, 
for  the  greater  part  have  grown  insensibly  into  usage,  without  any 
public  compact,  formal  acknowledgment,  or  even  known  original ; 
but  simply  from  the  fact  of  their  being  established,  and  the  gen- 
eral duty  of  conforming  to  established  rules  upon  questions,  and 
between  parties,  where  nothing  but  positive  regulations  can  pre- 
vent disputes,  and  where  disputes  are  followed  by  such  destruc- 
tive consequences.  The  first  of  the  instances  which  we  have  just 
now  enumerated,  may  be  selected  for  the  illustration  of  this  re- 
mark. The  nations  of  Europe  consider  the  sovereignty  of  newly- 
discovered  countries  as  belonging  to  the  prince  or  state  whose 
subject  makes  the  discowry  ;  and,  in  pursuance  of  this  rule,  it  is 
usual  for  a  navigator,  who  falls  upon  an  unknown  shore,  to  take 
possession  of  it,  in  the  name  of  his  sovereign  at  home,  by  erecting 
his  standard,  or  displaying  his  flag  upon  a  desert  coast.  Now 
Kothing  can  be  more  fanciful,  or  less  substantiated  by  any  consid- 


41g  OF  WAR,  AND  OF 

erations  of  reason  or  justice,  than  the  right  which  such  discovery ; 
or  the  transient  occupation  and  idle  ceremony  that  accompany  it, 
confer  upon  the  country  of  the  discoverer.  Nor  can  any  stipula- 
tion be  produced,  by  which  the  rest  of  the  world  have  bound 
themselves  to  submit  to  this  pretension.  Yet  when  we  reflect 
that  the  claims  to  newly-discovered  countries  can  hardly  be  set- 
tled, between  the  different  nations  which  frequent  them,  without 
some  positive  rule  or  other ;  that  such  claims,  if  left  unsettled, 
would  prove  sources  of  ruinous  and  fatal  contentions ;  that  the 
rule  already  proposed,  however  arbitrary,  possesses  one  principal 
quality  of  a  rule, — determination  and  certainty;  above  all,  that 
it  is  acquiesced  in,  and  that  no  one  has  power  to  substitute  another, 
however  he  might  contrive  a  better,  in  its  place :  when  we  re- 
flect upon  these  properties  of  the  rule,  or  rather  upon  these  con- 
sequences of  rejecting  its  authority,  we  are  led  to  ascribe  to  it 
the  virtue  and  obligation  of  a  precept  of  natural  justice,  because 
we  perceive  in  it  that  which  is  the  foundation  of  justice  itself, 
public  importance  and  utility.  Aud  a  prince  who  should  dispute 
this  rule,  for  the  want  of  regularity  in  its  formation,  or  of  intelli- 
gible justice  in  its  principle,  and  by  such  disputes  should  disturb 
the  tranquillity  of  nations,  and  at  the  same  time  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  future  disturbances,  would  be  little  less  criminal  than  he 
who  breaks  the  public  peace  by  a  violation  of  engagements  to 
which  he  had  himself  consented,  or  by  an  attack  upon  those  na- 
tional rights  which  are  founded  immediately  in  the  law  of  nature, 
and  in  the  first  perceptions  of  equity.  The  same  thing  may  be 
repeated  of  the  rules  which  the  law  of  nations  prescribes  in  the 
other  instances  that  were  mentioned,  namely,  that  the  obscurity 
of  their  origin,  or  the  arbitrariness  of  their  principle,  subtracts 
nothing  from  the  respect  that  is  due  to  them,  when  once  estab- 
lished. 


War  may  be  considered  with  a  view  to  its  causes  and  to  its 
conduct.  . 

The  justifying  causes  of  war  are  deliberate  invasions  of  right, 
and  the  necessity  of  maintaining  such  a  balance  of  power  amongst 
neighbouring  nations,  as  that  no  single  state,  or  confederacy  of 
stales,  ue  strong  enough  to  overwhelm  the  rest.    The  objects  of 


MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.  413 

just  war  are  precaution,  defence,  or  reparation.  In  a  larger  sense, 
every  just  war  is  a  defensive  war,  inasmuch  as  every  just  Mar 
supposes  an  injury  perpetrated,  attempted,  or  feared. 

The  insufficient  causes,  or  unjustifiable  motives  of  war,  are  the 
family  alliances,  the  personal  friendships,  or  the  personal  quar- 
rels of  princes ;  the  internal  disputes  which  are  carried  on  in 
other  nations ;  the  justice  of  other  wars,  the  extension  of  territo- 
ry, or  of  trade ;  the  misfortunes  or  accidental  weakness  of  a  neigh- 
bouring or  rival  nation. 

There  are  two  lessons  of  rational  and  sober  policy,  which,  if 
it  were  possible  to  inculcate  them  into  the  couucils  of  princes, 
would  exclude  many  of  the  motives  of  war,  and  allay  that  restless 
ambition  which  is  constantly  stirring  up  one  part  of  mankind 
against  another.  The  first  of  these  lessons  admonishes  princes  to 
"  place  their  glory  and  their  emulation,  not  in  extent  of  territory,  but 
in  raising  the  greatest  quantity  of  happiness  out  of  a  given  terri- 
tory." The  enlargement  of  territory  by  conquest  is  not  only  not  a 
just  object  of  war,  but,  in  the  greater  part  of  the  instances  in 
which  it  is  attempted,  not  even  desirable.  It  is  certainly  not  de- 
sirable where  it  adds  nothing  to  the  numbers,  the  enjoyments,  or 
the  security  of  the  conquerors.  What  commonly  is  gained  to  a 
nation,  by  the  annexing  of  new  dependencies,  or  the  subjugation  of 
other  countries  to  its  dominion,  but  a  wider  frontier  to  defend ;  more 
interfering  claims  to  vindicate ;  more  quarrels,  more  enemies, 
more  rebellions  to  encounter;  a  greater  force  to  ke^p  up  by  sea 
and  land  ;  more  services  to  provide  for,  and  more  establishments 
to  pay  ?  And,  in  order  to  draw  from  these  acquisitions  something 
that  may  make  up  for  the  charge  of  keeping  them,  a  revenue  is 
to  be  extorted,  or  a  monopoly  to  be  enforced  and  watched,  at  an 
expense  which  cost  half  their  produce.  Thus  the  provinces  are 
oppressed,  in  order  to  pay  for  being  ill  governed ;  and  the  orig- 
inal state  is  exhausted  in  maintaining  a  feeble  authority  over  dis- 
contented subjects.  No  assignable  portion  of  country  is  benefited 
by  the  change ;  and  if  the  sovereign  appear  to  himself  to  he  en- 
riched or  strengthened,  when  every  part  of  his  dominion  is  mads 
poorer  and  weaker  than  it  was,  it  is  probable  that  he  is  deceived 
by  appearances.  Or  were  it  true  that  the  grandeur  of  the  prince 
is  magnified  by  those  exploits;  the  glory  which  is  purchased,  and 
the  ambition  which  is  gratified,  by  the  distress  of  one  country 
without  adding  to  the  happiness  of  another,  which  at  the  same- 


£14?  0F  WAR»  AND  or 

time  enslaves  the  new  and  impoverishes  the  ancient  part  of  the 
empire,  by  whatever  names  it  may  be  known  or  flattered,  ought 
to  be  an  object  of  universal  execration  ;  and  oftentimes  not  more 
so  to  the  vanquished,  than  to  the  very  people  M'hose  armies  or 
whose  treasures  have  achieved  the  victory. 

There  are,  indeed,  two  cases  in  which  the  extension  of  territory 
may  be  of  real  advantage,  and  to  both  parties.  The  first  is,  where 
an  empire  thereby  reaches  to  the  natural  boundaries  which  divide 
it  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  Thus  we  account  the  British  Chan- 
nel, the  natural  boundary  which  separates  the  nations  of  England 
and  France  :  and  if  France  possessed  any  countries  on  this,  or 
England  any  cities  or  provinces  on  that  side  of  the  sea,  the  re- 
covery of  such  towns  and  districts  to  what  may  be  called  their 
natural  sovereign,  though  it  may  not  be  a  just  reason  for  com- 
mencing war,  would  be  a  proper  use  to  make  of  victory.  The 
other  case  is,  where  neighbouring  states,  being  severally  too  small 
and  weak  to  defend  themselves  against  the  dangers  that  surround 
them,  can  only  be  safe  by  a  strict  and  constant  junction  of  their 
strength  ;  here  conquest  will  affect  the  purposes  of  confederation 
and  alliance;  and  the  union  which  it  produces  is  often  more  close 
and  permanent,  than  that  which  results  from  voluntary  associa- 
tion. Thus,  if  the  heptarchy  had  continued  in  England,  the  differ- 
ent kingdoms  of  it  might  have  separately  fallen  a  prey  to  foreign 
invasion  :  and  although  the  interest  and  danger  of  one  part  of  the 
island  were  in  truth  common  to  every  other  part,  it  might  have  been 
difficult  to  have  circulated  this  persuasion  amongst  independent 
nations;  or  to  have  united  them  in  any  regular  or  steady  opposi- 
tion to  their  continental  enemies,  had  not  the  valour  and  fortune 
of  an  enterprising  prince  incorporated  the  whole  into  a  single 
monarchy.  Here  the  conquered  gained  as  much  by  the  revolu- 
tion as  the  conquerors.  In  like  manner,  and  for  the  same  reason, 
when  the  two  royal  families  of  Spain  were  met  together  in  one 
race  of  princes,  and  the  several  provinces  of  France  had  devolved 
into  the  possession  of  a  single  sovereign,  it  became  unsafe  for  the 
inhabitants  of  Great  Britain,  any  longer  to  remain  under  separate 
governments.  The  union  of  England  and  Scotland,  which  trans- 
formed two  quarrelsome  neighbours  into  one  powerful  empire, 
and  which  was  first  brought  about  by  the  course  of  succession,  and 
afterwards  completed  by  amicable  convention,  would  have  been  a 
fortunate* onclusion  of  hostilities,  had  it  been  effected  by  the  opera- 


MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.  415 

tions  of  war.  These  two  cases  being  admitted,  namely,  the  ob- 
taining of  natural  boundaries  and  barriers,  and  the  including  un- 
der the  same  government,  those  who  have  a  common  danger  and 
a  common  enemy  to  guard  against,  I  know  not  whether  a  third 
can  be  thought  of,  in  which  the  extension  of  empire  by  conquest 
is  useful  even  to  the  conquerors. 

The  second  rule  of  prudence  which  ought  to  be  recommended 
to  those  who  conduct  the  affairs  of  nations,  is,  "  never  to  pursue 
national  honour  as  distinct  from  national  interest."  This  rule  ac- 
knowledges that  it  is  often  necessary  to  assert  the  honour  of  a  nation 
for  the  sake  of  its  interest.  The  spirit  and  courage  of  a  people 
are  supported  by  flattering  their  pride.  Concessions  which  betray 
too  much  of  fear  or  weakness,  though  they  relate  to  points  of 
mere  ceremony,  invite  demands  and  attacks  of  more  serious  im- 
portance.— Our  rule  allows  all  this ;  and  only  directs  that,  when 
points  of  honour  become  subjects  of  contention  between  sover- 
eigns, or  are  likely  to  be  made  the  occasions  of  war,  they  be  esti- 
mated with  a  reference  to  utility,  and  not  by  themselves. — "  The 
dignity  of  his  crown,  the  honour  of  his  flag,  the  glory  of  his 
arms,"  in  the  mouth  of  a  prince,  are  stately  aud  imposing  terms; 
but  the  ideas  they  inspire  are  insatiable.  It  may  be  always  glo- 
rious to  conquer,  whatever  be  the  justice  of  the  war,  or  the  price 
of  the  victory.  The  diguity  of  a  sovereign  may  not  permit  him 
to  recede  from  claims  of  homage  and  respect,  at  whatever  ex- 
pense of  national  peace  and  happiness  they  are  to  be  maintained, 
however  unjust  they  may  have  been  in  their  original,  or  in  their 
continuance  however  useless  to  the  possessor,  or  mortifying  and 
vexatious  to  other  states.  The  pursuit  of  honour,  when  set  loose 
from  the  admonitions  of  prudence,  becomes  in  kings  a  wild  and 
romantic  passion  :  eager  to  engage,  aud  gathering  fury  in  its  pro- 
gress, it  is  checked  by  no  difficulties,  repelled  by  no  dangers;  it 
forgets  or  despises  those  considerations  of  safety,  ease,  wealth, 
and  plenty,  which,  in  the  eye  of  true  public  wisdom,  compose  the 
objects  to  which  the  renown  of  arms,  the  fame  of  victory,  are  only 
instrumental  aud  subordinate.  The  pursuit  of  interest,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  a  sober  principle  ;  computes  costs  and  consequences; 
is  cautious  of  entering  into  war  ;  stops  in  time  :  when  regulated 
by  those  universal  maxims  of  relative  justice,  which  belong  to 
the  affairs  of  communities  as  well  as  of  private  persons,  it  is  the 
right  principle  for  nations  to  proceed  by  ;  even  when  it  trespasses 


%{Q  OF  WAR,  AND   OF 

upon  these  regulations,  it  is  much  less  dangerous,  because  much 
more  temperate,  than  the  other. 

II.  The  conduct  of  war. — If  the  cause  and  end  of  war  be  justi- 
fiable, all  the  means  that  appeur  necessary  to  the  end  are  justi- 
fiable also.  This  is  the  principle  which  defends  those  extremities 
to  which  the  violence  of  war  usually  proceeds  :  for,  since  war  is  a 
contest  by  force  between  parties  who  acknowledge  no  common 
superiour,  and  since  it  includes  not  in  its  idea  the  supposition  of 
any  convention  which  should  place  limits  to  the  operations  of 
force,  it  has  naturally  no  boundary  but  that  in  which  force  ter- 
minates, the  destruction  of  the  life  against  which  the  force  is 
directed.  Let  it  be  observed,  however,  that  the  license  of  war 
authorizes  no  acts  of  hostility,  but  what  are  necessary  or  condu- 
cive to  the  end  and  object  of  the  war.  Gratuitous  barbarities 
borrow  no  excuse  from  this  plea :  of  which  kind  is  every  cruelty 
and  every  insult  that  serves  only  to  exasperate  the  sufferings,  or 
to  incense  the  hatred,  of  an  enemy,  without  weakening  his  strength, 
or  in  any  manner  tending  to  procure  his  submission;  such  as  the 
slaughter  of  captives,  the  subjecting  them  to  indignities  or  torture, 
the  violation  of  women,  the  profanation  of  temples,  the  demolition 
of  public  buildings,  libraries,  statutes,  and  in  general  the  destruc- 
tion or  defacing  of  works  that  conduce  nothing  to  annoyance  or 
defence.  These  enormities  are  prohibited  not  only  by  the  prac- 
tice of  civilized  nations,  but  by  the  law  of  nature  itself;  as  hav- 
ing no  proper  tendency  to  accelerate  the  termination,  or  accom- 
plish the  object  of  the  war;  and  as  containing  that  which  in 
peace  and  war  is  equally  unjustifiable, — ultimate  and  gratuitous 
mischief. 

There  are  other  restrictions  imposed  upon  the  conduct  of  war, 
not  by  the  law  of  nature  primarily,  but  by  the  laws  of  war  first, 
and  by  the  law  of  nature  as  seconding  and  ratifying  the  laws  of 
war.  The  laws  of  war  are  part  of  the  law  of  nations ;  and  found- 
ed, as  to  their  authority,  upon  the  same  principle  with  the  rest  of 
that  code,  namely,  upon  the  fact  of  their  being  established,  no 
matter  when  or  by  whom  ;  upon  the  expectation  of  their  being 
mutually  observed,  in  consequence  of  that  establishment ;  and 
upon  the  general  utility  which  results  from  such  observance. 
The  binding  force  of  these  rules  is  the  greater,  because  the  regard 
that  is  paid  to  them  must  be  universal  or  none.  The  breach  of 
the  rule  can  only  be  punished  by  the  subversion  of  the  rule  itself  • 


MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.  4^ 

Oft  which  account,  the  whole  mischief  that  ensues  from  the  loss  of 
those  salutary  restrictions  which  such  rules  prescribe,  is  justly- 
chargeable  upon  the  first  aggressor.  To  this  consideration  may 
he  referred  the  duty  of  refraining  in  war  from  poison  and  from 
assassination.  If  the  law  of  nature  simply  be  consulted,  it  may 
be  difficult  to  distinguish  between  these  and  other  methods  of  de- 
struction, which  are  practised  without  scruple  by  nations  at  war. 
If  it  be  lawful  to  kill  an  enemy  at  all,  it  seems  lawful  to  do  so  by 
one  mode  of  death  as  well  as  by  another ;  by  a  dose  of  poison,  as 
by  the  point  of  a  sword  ;  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  as  by  the 
attack  of  an  army  :  for  if  it  be  said  that  one  species  of  assault 
leaves  to  an  enemy  the  power  of  defending  himself  against  it, 
and  that  the  other  does  not;  it  may  be  answered, that  we  possess 
at  least  the  same  right  to  cut  oft*  an  enemy's  defence,  that  we 
have  to  seek  his  destruction.  In  this  manner  might  the  question 
be  debated,  if  there  existed  no  rule  or  law  of  war  upon  the  sub= 
ject.  But  when  we  observe  that  such  practices  are  at  present 
excluded  by  the  usage  and  opinions  of  civilized  nations  ;  that  the 
first  recourse  to  them  would  be  followed  by  instant  retaliation  ; 
that  the  mutual  license  which  such  attempts  must  introduce, 
would  fill  both  sides  with  the  misery  of  continual  dread  and  sus- 
picion, without  adding  to  the  strength  or  success  of  either;  that 
when  the  example  came  to  be  more  generally  imitated,  which  it 
soon  would  be,  after  the  sentiment  that  condemns  it  had  been 
once  broken  in  upon,  it  would  greatly  aggravate  the  horrors  and 
calamities  of  war,  yet  procure  no  superiority  to  any  of  the  na- 
tions engaged  in  it :  when  we  view  these  effects,  we  join  in  the 
public  reprobation  of  such  fatal  expedients,  as  of  the  admission 
amongst  mankind  of  new  and  enormous  evils  without  necessity 
or  advantage.  The  law  of  nature,  we  see  at  length,  forbids  these 
innovations,  as  so  many  transgressions  of  a  beneficial  general  rule 
actually  subsisting. 

The  license  of  war  then  acknowledges  two  limitations  i  it 
authorizes  no  hostilities  which  have  not  an  apparent  tendency 
to  effectuate  the  object  of  the  war;  it  respects  those  positive  laws 
which  the  custom  of  nations  hath  sanctified,  and  which,  whilst 
they  are  mutually  conformed  to,  mitigate  the  calamities  of  war, 
Without  weakening  its  operations,  or  diminishing  the  power  or 
safety  of  belligerent  states. 


53 


418  OF  WAR,  AND  01' 


Long  and  various  experience  seems  to  have  convinced  the  na- 
tions of  Europe,  that  nothing  but  a  standing  army  can  oppose  a 
standing  army,  where  the  numbers  on  each  side  bear  any  moder- 
ate proportion  to  one  another.  The  first  standing  army  that  ap- 
peared in  Europe  after  the  fall  of  the  Roman  legion,  was  that 
which  was  erected  in  France  by  Charles  VII.  about  the  middle  of 
the  fifteenth  century  :  and  that  the  institution  hath  since  become 
general,  can  only  be  attributed  to  the  superiority  and  success  which 
are  every  where  observed  to  attend  it.  The  truth  is,  the  close- 
ness, regularity,  and  quickness  of  their  movements  ;  the  unreserv- 
ed, instantaneous,  and  almost  mechanical  obedience  to  orders  ; 
the  sense  of  personal  honour,  and  the  familiarity  with  danger, 
which  belong  to  a  disciplined,  veteran,  and  embodied  soldiery, 
give  such  firmness  and  intrepidity  to  their  approach,  such  weight 
and  execution  to  their  attack,  as  are  not  to  be  withstood  by  loose 
ranks  of  occasional  and  newly-levied  troops,  who  are  liable  by 
their  inexperience  to  disorder  and  confusion,  and  in  whom  fear  is 
constantly  augmented  by  novelty  and  surprise.  It  is  possible 
that  a  militia,  with  a  great  excess  of  numbers,  and  a  ready  sup- 
ply of  recruits,  may  sustain  a  defensive  or  a  flying  war  against 
regular  troops  ;  it  is  also  true  that  any  service,  which  keeps  sol- 
diers for  a  while  together,  and  inures  them  by  little  and  little  to 
the  habits  of  war  and  the  dangers  of  action,  transforms  them  in 
eftect  into  a  standing  army.  But  upon  this  plan  it  may  be  ne- 
cessary for  almost  a  whole  nation  to  go  out  to  war  to  repel  an 
invader  ;  beside  that,  a  people  so  unprepared  must  always  have 
the  seat,  and  with  it  the  miseries  of  war,  at  home,  being  utterly 
incapable  of  carrying  their  operations  into  a  foreign  country. 

From  the  acknowledged  superiority  of  standing  armies,  it  fol- 
lows, not  only  that  it  is  unsafe  for  a  nation  to  disband  its  regular 
troops,  whilst  neighbouring  kingdoms  retain  theirs ;  but  also  that 
regular  troops  provide  for  the  public  service  at  the  least  possible 
expense.  I  suppose  a  certain  quantity  of  military  strength  to  be 
necessary,  and  I  say  that  a  standing  army  costs  the  community  less 
than  any  other  establishment  which  presents  to  an  enemy  the 
same  force.  The  constant  drudgery  of  low  employments  is  not 
only  incompatible  with  any  great  degree  of  perfection  or  expert- 
ness  in  the  profession  of  a  soldier,  but  the  profession  of  a  soldier 


MILITARY  ESTxiBLISHMENTS.  4, 1 9 

almost  always  unfits  men  for  the  business  of  regular  occupations. 
Of  three  inhabitants  of  a  village,  it  is  better  that  one  should  ad- 
dict himself  entirely  to  arms,  and  the  other  two  stay  constantly 
at  home  to  cultivate  the  ground,  than  that  all  the  three  should 
mix  the  avocations  of  a  camp  with  the  business  of  husbandry. 
By  the  former  arrangement  the  country  gains  one  complete  sol- 
dier, and  two  industrious  husbandmen  ;  from  the  latter  it  receives 
three  raw  militia-men,  who  are  at  the  same  time  three  idle  and 
profligate  peasants.  It  should  be  considered,  also,  that  the  emer- 
gencies of  war  wait  not  for  seasons.  Where  there  is  no  standing 
army  ready  for  immediate  service,  it  may  be  necessary  to  call  the 
reaper  from  the  fields  in  harvest,  or  the  ploughman  in  seed4ime; 
and  the  provision  of  a  whole  year  may  perish  by  the  interruption 
of  one  month's  labour.  A  standing  army,  therefore,  is  not  only 
a  more  effectual,  but  a  cheaper  method  of  providing  for  the  public 
safety,  than  any  other,  because  it  adds  more  than  any  other  to 
the  common  strength,  and  takes  less  from  that  which  composes 
the  wealth  of  a  nation,  its  stock  of  productive  industry. 

There  is  yet  another  distinction  between  standing  armies  and 
militias,  which  deserves  a  more  attentive  consideration  than  any 
that  has  been  mentioned.  When  the  state  relies  for  its  defence 
upon  a  militia,  it  is  necessary  that  arms  be  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  people  at  large.  The  militia  itself  must  be  numerous,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  want  or  inferiority  of  its  discipline,  and  the  imbe- 
cilities or  defects  of  its  constitution.  Moreover,  as  such  a  militia 
must  be  supplied  by  rotation,  allotment,  or  some  mode  of  succes- 
sion whereby  they  who  have  served  a  certain  time  are  replaced 
by  fresh  draughts  from  the  country,  a  much  greater  number  will 
he  instructed  in  the  use  of  arms,  and  will  have  been  occasionally 
embodied  together,  than  are  actually  employed,  or  than  are 
supposed  to  be  wanted,  at  the  same  time.  Now  what  effects  upon 
the  civil  condition  of  the  country  may  be  looked  for  from  this 
general  diffusion  of  the  military  character,  becomes  an  inquiry  of 
great  importance  and  delicacy.  To  me  it  appears  doubtful 
whether  any  government  can  be  long  secure,  where  the  people  are 
acquainted  with  the  use  of  arms,  and  accustomed  to  resort  to 
them.  Every  faction  will  find  itself  at  the  head  of  an  army ; 
every  disgust  will  excite  commotion,  and  every  eoimnolion  become 
a  civil  war.  Nothing,  perhaps,  can  govern  a  nation  of  armed 
citizens  but  that  which  governs  an  army,- — despotism.    I  do  not 


4^0  0F  WAR,  AND  OP 

mean  that  a  regular  government  would  become  despotie  by  train- 
ing up  its  subjects  to  the  knowledge  and  exercise  of  arms,  but  that 
it  would  ere  long  be  forced  to  give  way  to  despotism  in  some 
other  shape ;  and  that  the  country  would  be  liable  to  what  is 
even  worse  than  a  settled  and  constitutional  despotism, — to  per- 
petual rebellions,  and  to  perpetual  revolutions  ;  to  short  and 
violent  usurpations  ;  to  the  successive  tyranny  of  governors, 
rendered  cruel  and  jealous  by  the  danger  and  instability  of  their 
situation. 

The  same  purposes  of  strength  and  efficacy  which  make  a 
standing  army  necessary  at  all,  make  it  neeessary,  in  mixed  gov- 
ernments, that  this  army  be  submitted  to  the  management  and 
direction  of  the  prince  :    for,  however  well  a  popular  council 
may  be  qualified  for  the  offices  of  legislation,  it  is  altogether  unfit 
for  the  conduct  of  war  :  in  which,  success  usually  depends  upon 
vigour  and  enterprize;  upon  secrecy,  despatch,   and  unanimity ; 
npon  a  quick  perception  of  opportunities,  and  the  power  of  seizing 
every  opportunity  immediately.     It  is  likewise  necessary  that  the 
obedience  of  an  army,  be  as  prompt  and  active  as  possible ;  for 
which  reason  it  ought  to  be  made  an  obedience  of  will  and  emula- 
tion.   Upon  this  consideration  is  founded  the  expediency  of  leaving 
to  the  prince  not  only  the  government  and  destination  of  the  army, 
but  the  appointment  and  promotion  of  its  officers  :  because  a 
design  is  then  alone  likely  to  be  executed  with  zeal  and  fidelity^ 
when  the  person  who  issues  the  order,  chooses  the  instruments, 
and  rewards  the  service.     To  which  we  may  subjoin,  that,  in  gov- 
ernments like  ours,  if  the  direction  and  officering  of  the  army  were 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  democratic  part  of  the  constitution,  this 
power,  added  to  what  they  already  possess,  would  so  overbalance 
all  that  would  be  left  of  regal  prerogative,  that  little  would  re- 
main of  monarchy  in  the  constitution,  but  the  name  and  expense ; 
nor  would  these  probably  remain  long. 

Whilst  we  describe,  however,  the  advantages  of  standing 
armies,  we  must  not  conceal  the  danger.  These  properties  of 
their  constitution,— the  soldiery  being  separated  in  a  great  degree 
from  the  rest  of  the  community,  their  being  closely  linked  amongst 
themselves  by  habits  of  society  and  subordination,  and  the  depen- 
dency of  the  whole  chain  upon  the  will  and  favour  of  the  prince, 
— however  essential  they  may  be  to  the  purposes  for  which 
armies  are  kept  up,  give  them  an  aspect  in  no  wise  favourable  to 


MILITARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.  q^i 

public  liberty.  The  danger  however  is  diminished  by  maintain- 
ing, on  all  occasions,  as  much  alliance  of  interest,  and  as  much 
intercourse  of  sentiment,  between  the  military  part  of  the  nation, 
and  the  other  orders  of  the  people,  as  are  consistent  with  the 
union  and  discipline  of  an  army.  For  which  purpose  officers  of 
the  army,  upon  whose  disposition  towards  the  commonwealth  a 
great  deal  may  depend,  should  be  taken  from  the  principal  families 
of  the  country,  and  at  the  same  time  also  be  encouraged  to  estab- 
lish in  it  families  of  their  own,  as  well  as  be  admitted  to  seats  in 
the  senate,  to  hereditary  distinctions,  and  to  all  the  civil  honours 
and  privileges  that  are  compatible  with  their  profession:  which 
circumstances  of  connexion  and  situation  will  give  them  such  a 
share  in  the  general  rights  of  the  people,  and  so  engage  their 
inclinations  on  the  side  of  public  liberty,  as  to  afford  a  reasonable 
security  that  they  cannot  be  brought,  by  any  promises  of  per- 
sonal aggrandizement,  to  assist  in  the  execution  of  measures  which 
might  enslave  their  posterity,  their  kindred,  and  their  country. 


FINIS. 


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